There's no other way!
by 0Lou0
Summary: Young Neal desperately wants to escape his abusive father, so he decides to become a part of a heist planned by Matthew Keller. When it all goes terribly wrong, he has to surrender himself to the man who is hunting him for years to help his one and only friend. teen!neal *Trust, familiy, friendship, hurt, comfort*
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys :), this is my first fanfiction in English. I'm not a native speaker, so if there are any mistakes or things I should rephrase, please mention it, I really appreciate that! And a little warning: It's physical child abuse in my story and I won't be gentle with my characters, so please stop reading if this could be too much for you. There'll be a second chapter soon, this one should just be a little appetizer. The whole story is already in my head :) Thank you for reading! **

* * *

Neal was standing in front of the devil's home. He couldn't believe that he was actually here, without being forced to come, in handcuffs, struggling, not willing to cope. He straightened and took a deep breath. _Now or never,_ he told himself and entered the building.

Without any hesitation he greeted the slightly surprised looking man behind the security desk as if they were close friends, took the elevator and pressed the button for the 21st floor. He noticed his rising heartbeat and tried to relax as best as he could.

_You can do that, Neal. It's your only option. _

When the doors opened, he mentally focused on his goal one last time and went into hell. He was surrounded by dozens and dozens of federal agents, male and female, looking all the same. Ill-fitting suits, shades of blue and gray and ugly ties everywhere he looked.

He was standing still in the middle of the office, in between the hive full of people, just waiting to be recognized. He didn't have to wait for long. Suddenly a man right beside him looked at him with an oddly expression and stopped working immediately. The woman beside him noticed the unusual behaviour of her colleague and followed his gaze, her mouth opened lightly when she saw Neal. After that it was like a unstoppable wave, within seconds the whole office went quiet and everyone was staring at him, still not moving.

He felt his heart pounding in his chest, his hands were shaking, and he struggled to resist the urge to look around. He tried to straightened his back a little instead to hide his almost desperate thoughts of running away as soon as possible. A man came throughout a glass door of the higher up office, leaned against a steel railing and looked at him, obviously not believing his own eyes.

Neal met his gaze and slowly raised his hands over his head. "Hello, Peter. Nice to finally meet you in person and not seperated by a fence.", he said. "Thought you'd be grateful for me stopping by."

The agents face still showed no expression. "Do you have any weapons with you, Caffrey?", he said calmly, still staring at him.

"Oh Peter, you know that I don't like weapons or any form of violence. I'd never harm anyone on purpose.", Neal tried to sound as confident as possible, ignoring the upcoming fear inside him.

"Good", Peter said, still not looking an inch away. "So, Neal Caffrey, you're under arrest. Kneel down and leave your hands where they are!"

He obeyed, feeling very tired right now. Within half a second someone grabbed his arms and cuffed his hands behind his back. He shivered slightly when a young black agent closed the cold cuffs a little too tight and pulled him up on his feet, leaving his hand on his shoulder. _So,_ he thought,_ I really hope that's worth it, man!_

* * *

**Three weeks before. **

Neal was waking up at 10 o'clock in his fathers flat. He had been working till three a clock in the morning and couldn't barely open his eyes, but he knew he had to get up for his own sake.

He had to finish his latest forgery, it was due today and his father ran out of money a couple of days ago. Neal was fighting against his weariness and the pain in his chest. James hit him with his working boots yesterday when he tried to sneak out for a while and Neal might have heard a crack in his upper body. Not that this was something special. It could have been worse, by far. He has been his father's punching bag as long as he could remember.

He tried to run and hide, several times, but James always found him, due to his contacts. So the best he could do was getting out of his fathers way. He wentsilently into the kitchen to grab a coffee, yawning and listening to the snoring which was coming out of the room next to the him. He was flooded with relieve. His father had been drinking till early morning, which meant that Neal had plenty of time finishing his forgery and leaving the building before his father went up.

He kicked an empty beer bottle away, took his coffee with him and returned to his room, where his old, broken weasel had its place. Neal looked at the nearly finished painting. Raffaels "The Agony in the Garden". It had to be absolutely flawless. Their client planned to replace the original, displayed in the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

He started working and sunk into his own private world, without recognizing anything else. He enjoyed the smell and the texture of the old paint Mathew Keller gave him and savoured every brushstroke. That's why he didn't hear it coming.

_Swooosh._ His whole body dashed against his bedrooms wall, the whole air escaped his body and he couldn't breathe. His head bumped on the ground and he saw stars everywhere, his vision blurred. James took his collar and pulled him up, screaming and shouting at him.

"You little piece of shit. You're a pain in the ass. There's no more beer in the fridge. You're responsible for my well-being, you bastard." He was pressing his son against the wall, choking his neck. Neal was struggling, trying to get some air. His father threw his head against the wall once more and finally let him go.

Neal fell on the ground, desperately gasping, feeling the urge to vomit. He tried to calm down, ignoring his father, who still stood next to him, grinning. "I think you've learned your lesson for today, boy. So stand up little bastard and go get some beer. And you better hurry up, otherwise there's a lot more I could teach you." He finally left his room.

Neal felt his heart pounding hard against his broken rips and the pain started to spread out in his whole body. But he managed to stand op, grabbed his jacket and left the flat as soon as possible. He could hardly manage the stairs, but the fresh air helped him to recover a little. After one block he took a rest and tried to calm down a little, when he suddenly heard a familiar voice.

"Neal, don't tell me he did it again!?". Neal looked up, desperate and tired. "I know Mozzie, I can't stand this anymore. Let's talk about the offer."


	2. Chapter 2

**So here's the second chapter of my story. :) Like I said, I already have the whole storyline in my head, it just takes some time for me to write it down, especially in English. Please do me a favor and mention all my mistakes and sentences I should rephrase. I'm not sure whether this is good enough to be continued, so please leave a comment with your opinion. Thanks a lot! :) And just by the way, I'll go on with my other storyline in German very soon!**

* * *

Special Agent Peter Burke was sitting behind his desk, rubbing his tired eyes and staring at the open folder in front of him. He had never had a case like this, which was hunting him even in his dreams and threatened his marriage.

Three years ago, a close to perfect forgery ended up on his table, which was just the beginning. He and his division found several pieces of artwork, obviously created by the same artist. And this unknown criminal became better and better and after he could be associated with some former tamper-proof counterfeit bonds, the hunt became somehow significant. His team even started to call him "James Bond" and Peter got the feeling that many of his team members started to admire the latest, nearly flawless, forgeries.

Ten month ago they had a little breakthrough when one of the forgeries they confiscated could be related with a guy called Nicholas Halden. But that name turned out to be a dead end after all. Then, only six month ago, Peter received the cons first postcard with some very personal birthday wishes. Two weeks later, another card arrives with "Get well soon", directed to his dog Satchmo, who had to undergo a little surgery the day before. After that he had received at least one postcard a week and chocolate and a bottle of real good wine for Christmas.

That Con knew every bit going on in Peters life. Oddly enough, he somehow rejoiced at every message received by the forger after some time. Now two weeks had passed since the last card arrived and Peter had to admit that he started worrying. He leaned back in his chair, sighing, when his mobile phone started to ring.

"Burke", he grumbled.

"Did you receive my messages?", a young voice answered.

It took Peter a while to understand, then his eyes widened. "Who's there?"

"Aw Peter, lets skip these questions, I won't answer them anyway and I'm quite sure you're aware of that. I just wanted to say good-bye. It somehow became a habit I've became fond of writing these postcards for you and it's such a pity that this won't be possible anymore."

_Damn, this man sounded like he really meant what he just said_, Peter thought.

"So, what was all this about?", Peter asked after a short break.

The man on the phone chuckled lightly. He sounded very young, barely in his twenties, Peter assumed.

"You know, I thought it couldn't do any harm to become friends with the enemy. But Peter, don't take it personally, but it's not possible for this friendship to become even closer. Unfortunately, I really must go now. Please take care of your marvellous wife and your adorable dog. You should really spend more time at home, you know. If all goes well, I won't be a burden to you and your social life anymore. Farewell, Peter. It's been a pleasure."

Peter felt completely stunned. "Wait please…" he shouted, but it was to late.

He furiously threw his mobile phone on his desk and shouted "Dianna!". A young and pretty female agent hurried inside.

"Yes Boss, what's the matter?".

"I got a strange phone call. He knew all about the postcards, so I must assume I just talked to James Bond himself. I'm pretty sure he won't be that stupid, but trace his call, immediately."

When they reached the spot where the call came from half an hour later, they found a disposable phone, lying on a box full of doughnuts and a card that said: "Thanks for the good cooperation." Peter couldn't help but grinning.

* * *

After he dropped his gift for the White Collar Devision, Neal snatched a wallet from a man with a noble looking black coat and a nice fedora, which he honestly admired. He took the dollar bills and threw the rest of it in a nearby mailbox. After that he went into his usual liquor store.

"Hi Danny.", he greeted the middle aged behind the counter.

"Hello Neal, the same as usual?", he glanced at him, unagitated.

"No, I need something very strong today, mate. It's a special occasion."

"Right… no problem. Anything special in mind?".

Neal left the shop a few minutes later with a bag full of strong alcohol and headed to his fathers flat straight away. When he entered the front door, he heard James walking in his direction.

"Where have you been, you useless brat?", he shouted at him. He bumped him away with his elbow, took the paperback and looked inside.

"That's some good stuff. You really learned you lesson, didn't you?".

Neal remained quiet, his gaze filled with hate. Without any warning, his father kicked his knee into Neals stomach and pushed him on the ground.

"Just to make sure you got it, son." He said, turned around, grabbing one of the bottles and started drinking immediatly.

Neal lay on the dirty floor, surrounded by dozens of cigarette butts and inhaling a huge amount of dust and his eyes filled with tears. He had to escape, never mind the expense. Even if he had to make a deal with the devil himself.

He slowly sat up, feeling sore and helpless and went to his room to finally finish his Raffael. It took him two more hours until he was satisfied. Now it had to dry for a few hours, after that he would leave this shithole for good, he promised himself.

He decided to lay down for at least one hour, because he knew that otherwise he couldn't concentrate well enough, which was definitely necessary today. When he rested his head on his smelly old pillow, he imagined Peter Burke sitting in his wonderful, clean and warm house, with his beloved wife and his cute dog and his heart grew heavy. He couldn't imagine living in a family like this, with plenty to eat and much love and acceptance. He tried to get rid of this thought and closed his eyes.

Suddenly the door bursted open and his father was standing in the middle of his room, absolutely drunk, but still able to keep his balance more or less.

"You creepy bastard. Did you think I wouldn't find out, you piece of shit?."

Neal felt panic rising inside him. His father took his fist and hit him in his face, so that Neal passed out for a few seconds. His father went on screaming.

"Did you think that I'm just letting you go? Forget it. I know all about the heist. You won't leave me. You're my property, my slave. I'll always find you, no matter where you'll hide. So just stop trying, you bleedin idiot."

James slammed into his back and pulled him over, to shackle his wrists with a cable tie. Neals heart was racing and he was breathing heavily. He knew that he had to fight back now, or it would be to late. He took all his strength together and kicked with as much force as possible in his fathers knees to make him fall. His father keeled over like an old and rotten tree, probably due to the alcohol. Before he could stand up, Neal was on his feet, grabbing a huge and heavy book next to him with some of Raffaels paintings inside and slammed it on his fathers head three times. After that, James didn't move anymore.

Neal was staring at him, shocked and bewildered. He forced himself to focus on the next steps, he had to go, now!

With shaking hands, he took his backpack and stuffed some of his belongings inside. Then he grabbed the painting and without even a final glimpse he rushed out of the apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

**First of all I'd like to say thank you to "Dobby and Padfood", thank you so much for your comment, it meant a lot to me, it really did! :) I hope that you and maybe a few other people enjoy the third chapter, too. So, here it comes:**

* * *

When Jones, a young and dedicated black agent and a member of his team, showed Peter what he'd just found out, Peter couldn't help but grin like a little child right before Christmas. He was holding a photo of a little boy in his hand. It came along with a short description of the boy's specifics, including his name, Neal Bennet and his age, 10. A good-looking kid, very thin, with incredible blue eyes and wavy brown hair.

"Finally, a proper hint! Can't believe it. Tell me all about it, Jones!", Peter shouted out, full of excitement.

"We found a single fingerprint on that box of doughnuts, but he's not in our system as an offender. So… I thought it couldn't hurt to try out a couple of other possibilities. And I found a match! He's listed as a runaway in the missing children database. Four years ago, he left his foster family one morning to go to school and never came back."

Peter stared at the innocent looking child, lost in his thoughts. "So, he should be 14 at present. Clearly not old enough to be the man we're looking for. But it's something to work with. Maybe he's his errand boy or something like that. Good work, Jones!"

The young agent beamed with pride. "Thanks boss. I'll phone his former social worker tomorrow morning, to get to know some details about the kids past."

"Excellent, that should help." He went back into his office, still looking at that pale, a little lost and defiant looking boy. "Wherever you are, Neal Bennet, I promise I'll find you.", he mumbled with satisfaction.

* * *

When he arrived at Mozzie's, Neal could barely stay on his feet. He had to calm down before he could face his best friend. On the one hand, his whole body was in pain, insane pain, even by his standards. On the other hand, he felt that his shaking limbs weren't just due to his physical condition. He hit his father, who may be dead. Even if that wasn't a big loss and he had no other choice, he could feel the uncontrolable anger inside him while using that book as a weapon and he had to admit, that he literally enjoyed hitting his father's head.

He shivered. Violence had been part of his life for as long as he could remember and he was determined not to follow in his father's footsteps. He leaned against the wall next to him and struggled against the urge to vomit. He ran his hand through his wavy brown hair and felt the beads of sweat rolling down his face.

_Oh dear, this life really sucks_! he thought and took a deep breath before entering the old building behind him. It took him several minutes to climb up the stairs to Mozzies small penthouse. He knocked and waited.

A suspicious voice came from behind the door. "Todays password?", his friend asked.

"Come on Mozzie, it's me. It isn't really the right time for this crap right now. Please just let me in."

Mozzie hesitated for a moment and then opened the door. "You know, Neal, with this kind of behaviour you'll be in prison or, even worse, dead sooner or later. You really need to…" He stopped talking. "Holy shit … Neal! What happened?", he gasped, his eyes widened in shock.

"Ohh, come on Mozzie. It's not that bad. Just let me in!", Neal said half-heartedly and made his way in his friends living room.

He sighed with relief when he had managed to lay down on the couch and closed his eyes.

Mozzie followed him, still upset. "Not that bad? What are you telling me? Damned, Neal, your face looks like a battlefield. And I bet that's not the only damage he caused, your walking as if there's no healthy bone in your body. Let me see your upper body!", he demanded.

"Forget it, Mozzie. I won't take my shirt off for you, I heard that there are some well enough establishments to deal with that type of desires downtown." He managed to grin, hiding his pain as best as he could.

"Stop joking Neal. This is serious. Take it off."

Neal groaned annoyed and slowly obeyed, clenching his teeth. Mozzie held his breath and couldn't believe what he saw. He felt the pain only by looking at the bare torso in front of him. There were bruises in different shades of blue, lilac and yellow, red stripes, some covered with dried blood, several swellings and small scars that, Mozzie thought in horror, looked like scars from cigarettes. His mouth went open and he felt himself unable to speak.

Neal looked at him embarrassed and lowered his gaze. "Sorry, pal, it's really none of your business. I shouldn't have shown you." He grabbed his shirt and started getting dressed again.

Mozzie shook his head. "No, mister. Don't move. We'll treat that mess as best as we can and after that you'll tell me what has happened! I suppose you won't withdraw from the plan?". He gave his young companion a worried look.

"No way!", Neal stated without the slightest hesitation. "I won't get another chance like that!".

Mozzie knew that he was right and that he couldn't do anything to stop him. "So you better get some rest after that to charge your batteries. You'll really need that tomorrow."

A few hours later, Neal was lying under a blanked on his friend's sofa. He tried to be as honest as possible when telling him what had happend, but he left out that he wasn't sure whether James had been still alive after he left and didn't tell him that his father mentioned the heist, either. None of this felt right. But he couldn't change it right now. He had to do it, no matter what. He'd take his share and one of his fake IDs and would simply vanish, forever.

When he tried to move a little, to find a more acceptable position, he groaned in pain. Mozzie gave him some painkillers and a cream to treat his body with, but refused to let him distribute the pain relief on his back. He couldn't bear to be touched, even by his closest friend. So his back had to remain untreated. He tried to fall asleep for half an hour and then sat up, glaring in the dark. He never ever felt so lonely and helpless before.

* * *

At ten thirty pm Peter was the only one left in the office. Elizabeth phoned an hour ago and he told her that they probably had a breakthrough in his most important case. His wife wasn't pleased at all when he told her that he had some more work to do, but, patient as ever, she accepted it in her stoic manner.

His phone rang and Peter expected it to be his lovely wife again.

"Hey, Hon. Still not ready here.", he said.

"Wow, Peter. I didn't know we were _that_ close.", a young, well known voice chuckled. "How come you're still in your office. I told you, you've got to spend more time at home with Elizabeth. She really deserves your attention."

Peter felt his heartbeat rising. "Hello again, _Neal Bennet_.", he said triumphantly, looking forward to the boy's reaction.

The young one remained silent for a while. "You're still there?", Peter asked nervously.

"Yeah… How did you find out?", the kid asked in a husky voice.

"You didn't watch out; we found a fingerprint on your generous gift."

"Aww, what a shame.", the boy sounded very tired and a bit resignated, but Peter couldn't identify any signs of fear. "But I have to tell you you're wrong. That's not my name."

Peter leaned back in his chair. "Come on, buddy. It's time for the truth now." The young felon hesitated for a moment, considering his options, Peter assumed.

Then he answered in a steady voice. "You're right, my first name is Neal. But it's Neal Caffrey. Please don't ever use the other surname again, especially not in front of me."

Peter raised his brows. He couldn't explain, but he believed that kid. "All right, Neal. It doesn't matter…".

The boy interrupted sharply and full of emotions. "It matters to me, Peter."

The agent felt a bit confused by that outburst. "I'm sorry, I got it. Won't happen again.", he said kindly. "By the way, as you mentioned before, we're not THAT close, so it's Agent Burke for you. Understand? You're talking to a Federal Agent."

Now the boy chuckled again. "Right, Peter. I'll remember.".

"I suppose so…", he smiled, listening to the boys laughter. "Neal, would you mind visiting me in my office? I think there's a lot I'd like to know from you."

The young felon chuckled again. "Nice try, Peter, but unfortunately that won't happen. I'm not stupid, you know? I'm not keen on sitting in an interrogation room with you for hours, even if you're a very sympathetic man."

"Are you afraid of being punished? I bet we could work something out. I'd really like to help you, buddy. You're not the one we're really looking for."

The boy fell silent for a moment. "Thank you, Peter, I really appreciate your offer. But no one can help me… I'll better stop now, thank you so much for your time."

"Wait!", Peter yelled. "What does that mean, no one is able to help you? What are you involved in?"

To his surprise, the kid was still there.

He replied softly and with so much dispair in his voice. "I really can't tell you. It's a huge mess and I'm afraid it's too late to turn around." He heard the boy moving and trying to hide a little cry of pain.

"Buddy, you really need to tell me what's going on. Are you somewhere safe? Are you hurt? And is someone with you?", he asked, now really concerned.

When the boy answered, he sounded very young and yearningly. "You're a good man, Peter, you really are. Thank you so much for your time, I enjoyed talking to you. Please take care." He knew immediately that Neal was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys and thank you so much Dobby, I really appreciate your comments! :) I'll upload a very short one today, it is more a filler than a chapter I'd say. The next one will be very long and I don't want to divide it, so this is sort of the prologue for the next chapter. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

Neal spent the rest of the night restless, even though he felt exhausted. He couldn't tell what he intended with his call, he just had to talk. The spoken words touched and confused him somehow. He felt upset afterwards, as if he had lost something valuable he couldn't ever get back. He clenched his fist tightly. The hurt on his palms were distracting him a little. His whole body felt tense and he desperately wished he could just rest, only for an hour, but knew he couldn't.

When he heard Mozzie rumbling in his room, he wiped away his tears and put his friend's untraceable mobile back where it belonged. He assumed that the _slightly _paranoid man wouldn't be pleased to find out what he did.

"Morning mate. Feeling better?", Mozzie yawned.

Neal managed a little smile. "Sure, I'm fine." His friend threw him a glance, a little doubtful, but didn't say anything.

After that, they spent almost the whole day in strained silence, just changing the most necessary words. Neal felt nervous and anxious but tried to suppress his concerns as best as he could. When they were finally on their way to the meeting point, he felt almost relieved. The thoughts of his conversation with Peter accompanied him and he felt somehow guilty, as if this was something personal between the two of them. But he knew, he had to do it. It wasn't important whether he killed his father or not. He needed the money to start all over again, in any case and couldn't considerate his stupid emotions.

* * *

When they reached the venue in an old storehouse, Keller greeted them with his greasy smile. He was flanked by two of his bodyguards, both looking like muscle-bound bulldogs.

"Ahh, look who's there. I wasn't sure if you were really coming. Welcome!".

Neal felt disgusted and ashamed. Keller wasn't the kind of guy with whom he, in contrast to his father, liked to do his business, but he had the money.

"I stand by my word. You know that, Keller." He couldn't hide his repugnance but sounded a lot more confident then he felt right now.

"Behave yourself, kid. If you weren't such a fuckin baby genius in your profession, you'd make acquaintance with my little friend here, you know. But unfortunately, I really need your expertise." He gently touched his weapon while speaking.

Mozzie whispered: "Try to calm down, Neal. It's just one job. You won't see him again after we did this." Neal's hands trembled, but he managed not to answer. Two other men arrived and completed the group. They talked it through one last time and unlike Neal, Keller appeared to be satisfied. After that they entered an inconspicuous black van and headed towards the MET.

* * *

When Peter arrived home after his conversation with the young felon, he felt very worried and helpless. The boy obviously needed help, but he couldn't track his phone and had no clue were to find him, so he reluctantly left his working place.

He entered his his cosy home and his dog Satchmo welcomed him with a wet doggy kiss and a wild wagging tale. "Good boy! But please don't wake up El, be quiet.", he whispered and petted the dogs soft fur.

"No need to whisper, Peter. I'm awake!", his wife laughed, coming out of the living-room.

He looked at her, surprised. "But why, El? It's after midnight."

"I knew you've had a busy day and just wanted to see and comfort you a little after that.", she said lovingly and placed a kiss on his forehead.

"Oh El, I really don't deserve you.", Peter hugged her full of affection. They sat down on the sofa and Peter told her about the phone call he received.

"He's only 14, El. A kid. And he sounded so desperate and all alone and is obviously in the middle of something awful bad. I wish I could help him I really do. If he's the forger's assistant, this could ruin his future. Or even worse, maybe he'll have no future at all."

His wife stroked his arm. "Honey, you'll maybe get the chance to help him one day, we'll see. You did your best and I'm sure that he noticed. He'll not fell all alone after that. Please try to relax, there's nothing more you could do right now." Peter nodded, still not convinced.

* * *

When he arrived at work after a restless night, Jones walked straight in his office.

"Hey Boss. I called the kid's social worker. She remembered his case, even though she barely knew the child. The boy was caught pickpocketing. He had many bruises and scars on him and was half starved. He refused to talk, but they managed to find out his and his father's name after all but couldn't find him or any other relative. She said she felt very sorry for him. He was brought into foster care, but soon after that disappeared. She told me one thing that could be interesting. When he left his foster family, they found some very good paintings and sketches in his room. The social worker said that she kept them and that she always has to think of the boy with the deep, sad looking blue eyes while admiring the paintings."

Peter felt a little chill down his spine and swallowed hard. He advised the young agent to immediately get these paintings. When they arrived, he put them on his desk and couldn't believe his own eyes. They were brilliant, absolutely beautiful and looked painfully well-known.

Some of them he couldn't identify, but he definitely had almost perfect replicas of Van Goghs sunflowers and Degas dancing class in front of him. He sat down, in shock and disbelief.

_Could it really be that this innocent looking, abused boy wasn't the assistant, but the forger and criminal mastermind himself?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! :) This one really took some time, I have to admit that it wasn't easy to write the action parts. So please, as always, feel free to correct all the things you think should be rephrased or whatever. I had to change one tiny detail in chapter one, so that it made sense after all. Thank you SO much for your comments, they really made me smile in joy! :) I decided to change the rating after the last comment. Do you think that's all right? **

* * *

Neal felt like sitting in Keller's stupid van for ages, when the older man finally decided that they could leave the vehicle now. He had his forgery with him in a small backpack. One man was left behind, he would monitor the building and start the engine as soon as he would see them coming after the heist.

The whole group headed towards an abandoned alley, right behind the MET. It was a cold and very dark night and Neal shivered, feeling anxious and uncomfortable. He still had that nasty, undetermined feeling, that something would go wrong after all. And it took an awful lot for him to cover that he was so badly in pain, which didn't make it any better. He doubted that Keller would appreciate his participation if he knew that Neal could barely walk upright. Mozzie recognized the boys tensed expression and gently squeezed his arm while walking, throwing him an encouraging look. A little smile crossed Neals face and he managed an almost invisible reassuring nod in his friends' direction.

After a short walk the whole group reached their destination. They all knew exactly what to do, so no words were exchanged, and they remained perfectly quiet. Mozzie used his lockpick set to open a tiny picklock in under ten seconds and opened the chain-linked fence. One of Keller's gorillas then put out a crowbar and used it as a handle to break open a small iron door, that led into an old basement of an even older storage house, which in former times belonged to the main building.

The two bodyguards and Keller himself stayed behind after that, so that only Mozzie, Neal and the unknown, very tall and very thin, men went on. Neal had all the, certainly highly confidential, sketches of the building in his head and guided the group through a couple of rooms, filled with old dusty furniture and other crap. These rooms looked as if they hadn't seen a human being for at least ten years or more and the stirred-up dirt burned in their eyes, until Neal had difficulties to see anything additionally impeded by the darkened flashlights they were using.

He exhaled relieved when they finally reached the door they were looking for and entered a stairwell, which obviously wasn't in a regular use, either. They hurried upstairs and reached a slightly more modern looking door, secured by an expected alarm system. While Mozzie started to open the small box to turn it off, Neal pointed to a nearby ventilation shaft close to the ceiling and their companion offered him his hands to lift him up, so that he could slid into the terrible tight- and darkness.

His whole body screamed when he started to crawl through the narrow passage, and he struggled to stay conscious. He took a few deep breathes and clenched his teeth. He had to hurry, otherwise all this wouldn't work. When he reached the first crossing, he turned left, then right and then left again and he knew that he nearly made it.

He felt his heart racing and could hear the blood flow right beside his ears. Again, shaking a little, he opened the access to the required show room, aware that, by now, the main alarm system wouldn't work anymore, thanks to Mozzie. He looked around cautiously, but as expected the room appeared empty. The two security guards on duty were paid generously by Keller to look away, even though they didn't know where the money was coming from, only that not following the instructions wouldn't do them any good.

Neal carefully swept down on the ground, almost used to the pain running through his body afterwards and it took him five seconds till he felt able to go to the opposite wall, walking around some astonishing old and majestic looking pillars.

And there it was, Raffaels _The agony in the garden_. Finally. He had no time to admire the fine artwork but had to concentrate on the paintings security system. He put the backpack with his forgery next to him, the torch between his teeth and started working. When he had reached the second cable, the sweat pouring down his face again, he heard a loud crackle and shouting voices down the corridor. He turned frantically but couldn't see anything. _What now?_ His whole future depended on the painting right in front of him, but maybe there wouldn't be a future at all if he stayed.

He decided to accelerate working a little and cracked the painting off the wall. A high pitching sound set off immediately and he started to panic. He tried to detach the painting of the frame, but his hands were shaking badly, and he couldn't control them. When he heard footsteps coming closer, he looked up desperately and decided to run.

* * *

Peter felt himself haunted by the big blue eyes and the boys soft voice and desperate words during the whole day. He couldn't concentrate on anything else. Unfortunately, there were no further traces leading to that boy, so all in all he couldn't do anything to help or to catch him. He went down to grab his fifth, terrible tasting, coffee, when Dianna Barrigan, another team member, came to him in a hurry with a piece of paper in her hand.

"Boss, we just received a phone call. A man transmitted us very specific details about a heist that is supposed to take place in the MET tonight. He sounded drunk and of course it could be a false report, but he added so many minor details, I believe this could be true."

Peter looked at her bewildered, it took him a moment to think this through. He shook his head in disbelief. "Who was that man? And why would he report something like that?", he asked doubtfully.

Dianna shrugged "He refused to tell his name. But he sounded very angry, maybe there's an open bill between him and the suspected perpetrator. Look, boss, he even pointed out WHAT they want to steal, it's a Raffael. We have to take this serious."

Peter hesitated for a short moment, but then straightened and said: "All right, go get the team Dianna and lead them straight to the meeting room. We will make sure that they won't get the chance to steal anything."

* * *

Only two hours later his whole team was sitting in their observation van, parked right in front of the MET. Another car with more backup agants was wainting around the corner. Peter hated sitting in the van. It smelled like his former changing room for PE in high school and grown up agents didn't seem to be capable to keep their places clean. There were breadcrumbs all over the desk in front of him. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, which Dianna seemed to notice. She chuckled.

"What's the matter, boss?".

He turned to her, irritated. "What? Ohh, just this mess here. You guys should really learn how to clean your workspaces."

Dianna looked at the breadcrumbs and grinned amused. "But wasn't it your deviled ham sandwich, which you ate last week, that produced that mess?"

Peter flushed ashamed and didn't know what to answer.

Fortunately, he was saved by Jones, sitting in front of a monitor right behind him, who suddenly shouted: "There is a movement. I could just see at least two people walking behind the windows, who didn't look like security guards at all."

Peter immediately informed his backup and took one last deep breathe. "Can't believe it, that guy obviously told us the truth. All right, we're going in. Let's be their party crasher."

They rushed into the entrance hall of the MET, opening the main door with an enormous crash. Peter shouted in his intimidating voice:

"FBI. Whoever is in here, stay where you are and hands where we can see them. Otherwise we won't hesitate to shoot."

He used his hands to direct his team. More than 20 agents spread out in any direction. Peter himself turned right, held his gun ready to fire and was followed by Jones, while Barrington headed left. The showroom they entered appeared to be empty, so Peter guardedly did some steps forward.

In the corner of his eyes he noticed a small movement behind a statue. He gave Jones a silent sign in the right direction and both men lined up their weapons. Peter felt a mixture of excitement and anxiety and felt his heart pounding hard against his ribs.

He yelled "Peter Burke, FBI. Come out and surrender." For a split second nothing happened. Then, very slowly, a thin, tall man in dark clothes appeared, his hands held high above his head, his expression resigned.

"Do you have any weapons with you?", Peter asked sharply. The man shook his head. "Good. On your knees now. You're under arrest.", he ordered, and the man obeyed, without saying anything.

When Jones took out his handcuffs to tie up the first burglar, Peter heard a pitching sound, coming from a room which seemed to be directly connected by a hallway with their present room.

Jones caught Peters eye and called out: "Go on boss, I can handle this one on my own!".

Peter nodded, took his chance and ran as fast as he could, crossed two different rooms and turned around a corner. On the first sight, he noticed a painting in its frame lying on the floor, next to a small backpack. Then he perceived a motion again. There, only ten meters away, someone was standing in the half-light.

He could identify a slim, young looking person, obviously shaking, who moved backwards slowly. Peter lifted his gun again, aiming at the criminals head and shouted: "FBI. Freeze!".

The young criminal in front of him winced and suddenly turned around and slipped through a nearby doorframe. _Dammed_, Peter cursed silently and started to chase him.

* * *

Neal couldn't believe it. FBI. _How the hell could that happen?_ He had to fight hard against his uprising panic and tried not to think about the gun aimed at him right now.

Without even thinking about the consequences, he sprinted down the hallway and concentrated on the map in his head. He heard the footsteps behind him and tried desperately not to freak out. Fortunately, his pursuer made a not too sporty impression and fell back a little. Neal could hear him wheeze. _You can do that, Neal, try to focus, it's just a bloody old Fed!_ He told himself and finally reached the door that led back into the stairwell. He broke through the door and took three steps at a time.

The agents voice echoed behind him: "Ohhh, come… on, … just stop… right now. This … won't lead … you anywhere. Please... give up."

Neal didn't even think about it and bursted into the first basement room. His lungs burned and he could only feel pain and fear while passing through the whole dusty basement in an incredibly short time. When he found himself back in the narrow alley, he rushed through the chain-linked fence and, without a second thought, took the crowbar which Keller's bodyguard left on the ground and used it to secure the fence behind him. He could see the agent coming out of the basements access and hastily turned around to keep on running.

"Neal!", the agent behind him shouted. Neal froze immediatly, unable to move. He slowly turned around, feeling completely horrified and faced Agent Peter Burke, whose voice and face he now finally recognized.

* * *

Peter looked stunned at the young criminal's face, unable to believe it. He had spent the whole night and day worrying about how he could rescue that kid and now he was standing right in front of him, in charge of a significant crime, staring at him in pure shock and clearly frightened as hell. Peter was still aiming at the boys head with his gun.

The boy focused on his weapon. "You… you wouldn't… shoot me. Would you?", he said, in small and frightened voice.

Peter could see all the pain and panic in the boy's gaze. His whole body was trembling and Peter could see several bruises and scars on the boys face. But he hesitated to put the gun down.

"Only if I have to.", he said calmly.

He saw the boy's eyes widen in shock. He backed away again and Peter groaned and slowly put his weapon down on the ground, holding his hands high afterwards to soothe the kid.

"See? I won't harm you. Just stay where you are."

Neal stopped, obviously uncertain what to do next, still staring suspiciously at Peter's hands.

"Please surrender, Caffrey. You won't get hurti I promise. And I'll help you as best as a can. We'll treat you right, there's no need to be afraid", he said gently.

Neal looked down and then, for the first time, directly in Peters eyes. "Peter, like I told you, no one can help me. I have to help myself. If you knew… I mean, I must go now. I am so sorry that I caused you so much trouble. I really am!"

His honest, sad eyes rested on Peter for a short while. He looked so young and vulnerable at this moment. Then the boy turned around and started to run again but couldn't hide his pain anymore. He could't keep himself upright while running.

Peter crashed against the fence with his whole body, trying to open the door with brute force, but couldn't make it. When he saw the kid turning around the corner of the alley, he slapped his fist furiously against the brick wall to his left and took his mobile to call his backup.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys, thank you SO much for your response, I really love them! It's so much fun to write all this. I'll look over the last chapters in the next few days to correct some mistakes you've mentioned, I'm sorry. I really try my best and appreciate your help.**

**Only a short one today! Enjoy :)**

* * *

When Neal turned the corner, he felt emotionally and physically exhausted. Peters gun, pointed at his head and the agent's look haunted him. He wanted to rest so badly, forget everything that had happened. But he couldn't. He had to get himself out of this mess as fast as he could, but didn't know how.

As expected, Keller's van left its former parking lot, so he tried to hide his limp and shaking body and tried to look as self-confident and innocent as possible by taking a proud posture and walking at a moderate pace away from the MET.

A NYPD officer suddenly appeared and ran in his direction. Neal tried desperately not to lose control and put on a neutral facial expression. _Come on, you're a conman, you did this so many times and it has never been a problem! _he told himself and clenched his fists for a short time.

**_"_**What's up, officer?", he called out, with a lightly confused look at the young man in uniform.

"Hey kid, have you seen someone coming by who was acting kind of strange? Maybe leaving the MET?".

Neal managed to look a little more confused. "What? Uhhm… no?! I thought that the museum would be closed by this time. Ohh wait… I've recently seen a man running down the street, over there." He pointed vaguely in the opposite direction. "Maybe that's the man you're looking for, officer?". Now his facial expression was perfectly innocent again and he gave the man a little eager smile.

The officer looked at him for a short moment, but then obviously believed what Neal said. "Thanks, buddy. I think you shouldn't be out here, it's late, you now. Go home please!"

Neal nodded and his smile widened a little. "Will do, officer. Good luck with whatever is going on here." And he turned around without a second glance and went on.

He heard the officer running in the opposite direction. He let out a slight sigh. After that incident he was able to leave two blocks behind him, before he turned right, to join a group of young party people. He tried to behave like them to reduce the attention he attracted. He laughed and chatted with the girl next to him, who seemed a but confused at first, but laughed at his sayings only ten seconds later. It took him an awful lot to act like that while all these thoughts were whirling in his head. And he also recognized that this young people's life could be his life. Just laugh, chat, have a good time with each other, no Feds behind you, no breaking the law at all. Well, maybe a false ID to enter a forbidden club or something like that, but nothing more. But no, he decided to or was forced to be a criminal and maybe a killer, too, nothing more. He would never experience what it was like to live in a warm, cozy and safe home, with a proper father and mother. The thought of the agent's home and his warm looking wife suddenly appeared in his thoughts. It somehow became the prototype of how he imagined his perfect home during the time. Still, something unattainable. He felt tears in his eyes, while maintaining the perfect facade.

Two police cars raced past them but didn't stop. It brought him back to reality. What now? He didn't even have a mobile with him, _no personal things during a heist, _and his legs couldn't carry his body much longer. He crossed another street with his new friends and suddenly caught sight of the too well known van. He exhaled relieved and he dived into the next possible shadow. The group didn't even notice.

When the van arrived right in front of him, he jumped out and in a split second entered the open door to slide onto the middle seat. He closed his eyes for one moment, while the driver accelerated again. When he opened his eyes again, he looked around and his whole tension lessened when he spotted Mozzie behind him, who looked at him in limitless relief.

"Neal…I can't believe you made it. Thought you would be with these bloody suits right now. How…?",

"Unfortunately, I have to stop this emotional reunion. Did you get it?", Keller interrupted in a harsh voice and faced Neal from the passengers seat.

Neal lowered his gaze and felt his tension coming back. "No, but I really tried. I…".

Keller stopped him by hitting the handle of his gun into his face. "I'm not interested in the reasons, kid. So shut the fuck up." Neal's head bumped against his seat and he heard a crack and couldn't see properly for a moment. He felt his cheek bulge immediately. _Soon there will be more broken than healthy bones in my body, but whatever. _he thought bitterly and tried to regain his proud attitude towards Keller.

"Do it!" Keller shouted annoyed and pointed with his head in Neal's direction while looking at one of his bodyguards. The gorilla to his left put out a cable tie and roughly pushed Neal away from him, so that he faced the window. "Your hands, brat", he grumbled and after Neal obeyed grudgingly he felt the cable tie a lot to tight around his slim wrists. Pain exploded in his thorax after he tried to lean back in his seat. He could feel every broken bone in his upper body with his hands uncomfortable behind his back. He glimpsed at Mozzie in shock and perceived horrified, that his friend was cuffed, too.

_I knew that working with Keller wasn't a good idea, stupid me! _He breathed hard.

"What the hell are you doing, Keller? What is this all about?", he yelled and couldn't hide his desperation anymore.

"I told you to shut up, kid. I'll tell what you must know about this later. But now, for your own fucking good, don't talk. Understand? I need a bit of silence after this mess." Keller made a calm and relaxed impression from the outside, but his voice couldn't hide his anger and frustration.

Neal really wanted his answers and in particular he didn't want to sit cuffed and injured in Keller's Van, at the mercy of this cruel, unpredictable men, so he didn't even think about being quiet.

"Keller, it wasn't my fault, these Feds seemed to know what they were doing, maybe one of the security guys betrayed us. You can't do this to us, we did our job properly, as expected.", he shouted out, this time satisfied with the anger and firmness in his voice. He could hear a large groan coming from Keller and at first, he remained quiet after that and Neal observed his behaviour with concerns and curiosity.

After a short while he decided to give it another try. "Keller, you…". Keller turned around without any warning and slammed his weapon on Neal's head with great force. "Stupid genius! It's a shame I still need you." The pain exploded inside is head and he heard a high ringing noise in his ears, before everything went black.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys. Thank you SO much for your support. I didn't expect it at ALL when I started the story! A special thanks goes to Dobby and Padfood, who accompanied me from the beginning and Happy reader70. Makes me very happy! ;) It's only a short one today, too. But I promise there will be a longer one tomorrow or maybe the day after tomorrow. Had a lot of work recently. Thanks for reading and please enjoy!**

* * *

When Neal woke up, he felt his head pounding and could smell damp musty air. He looked around bewildered and found himself lying on an old mattress in an otherwise bare room with raw concrete walls and a massive door. The only light came from a single light bulb over his head.

He hastily tried to get up, with wobbly legs and a feeling of dizziness, but then recognized something strange around his ankle. When he pulled his leg up, his eyes widened in shock. There was a shackle made of iron, attached to a chain, leading to a ring in the wall right behind his mattress.

A gush of nausea hit him, and he was fighting the urge to vomit. _What the hell was this all about?_ He sat down again and wrapped his arms around his knees. He was terribly cold and about to panic, but he knew that he had to calm down. Therefore, he tried to focus. _Everything will be fine, Neal. You can fix this mess, you've survived worse, just breathe!_ he told himself, over and over again. The pain in his head felt almost unbearable and he closed his eyes. He called for Keller and tried to reach the door with his feet but couldn't make it. After what felt like an eternity, he sank onto the mattress and fell into a restless sleep.

Suddenly the door opened, and Neal rushed to sit up. There he was, Keller himself, with a derogatory grin.

"Hope you enjoy your stay in my establishment, Caffrey. Is everything to your satisfaction?".

Neal looked at him with pure hatred in his eyes. "What do you want, Keller?", he spit out.

"Ohh, you know what I want. But unfortunately, you and your little friend weren't able to fulfil my wish. But I'll work something out, don't worry. To my regret, I can't let you go until I have what I need. I can't take the risk of you disappearing, you know. But I'll keep you busy, until we have a new plan, I promise."

Neal stared at him in disbelief. "I will never ever work for you again, you evil bastard." He spat at Keller's feet.

The older man looked slightly amused. "I'll give you some time to think about it. Let me tell you, your attitude towards our collaboration won't help any of you two. Your friend will suffer just as you will. I'll come back later, take your time to come to senses!"

He went out and gestured for his bodyguard to come closer. "Have some fun!", se said in a cold voice and left.

Neal tried to retreat and covered his face with his arms when the huge and somber looking man entered his cell. With the chain around his ankle, he felt like a caged and tortured animal in the zoo.

"Let's get over with this shit!", the giant sighed and Neal stiffened and started to breath quickly.

_Swooosh!_ Neal felt a boot hitting his side and he slammed against the cell's back wall. He coughed hard, but had no time to recover. The man pulled him up and rammed his knee in Neals stomach. He couldn't breathe at all, squirmed and whimpered desperately. The man held his chin and looked him in the eyes.

"You'd rather do what he says kid, unless you and your friend want to suffer for a long, long time. He'll be next.", he said. Neal could see a little spark of pity in his eyes.

"You…don't… have to. Please!", he brought out imploringly.

"You don't know what you're talking about, boy. I have no choice, just as you have no choice. Even if you intend to learn your lesson the hard way. But don't think this is fun for me!", he told him and brutally pushed him against the wall.

Neal passed out for a few seconds and slipped on the ground. The bodyguard knelt to him and roughly pulled the boys sweatshirt over his head.

"I'm sorry, kid.", he said softly. With one last hit against Neal's already injured head, he left the cell and locked the door behind him.

* * *

Peter was about to lose control, when he finally left the interrogation room after three hours with no progress at all. The burglar didn't even reveal his name, let alone details about the heist.

Maybe an uncomfortable night in a nice little holding cell would help to loosen the men's tongue. Hopefully. The thin and dumb looking man obviously wasn't the mastermind behind all this mess, but their only chance to find the backers for now.

Peter went up to his office, stretching his aching back while walking. Jones followed him.

"Any news boss?", he asked.

Peter groaned. "Not at all, he's like a dead fish. I'm not even sure whether he is able to talk or not."

Jones shook his head. "What a shame! But boss, there is something in your office that might help. The painting that this boy wanted to steal was delivered."

They both entered Peter's office and faced a large packet on his desk. It took them ages to unwrap the well protected piece of art. Peter leaned down to take a closer look at the painting.

"Doesn't look like anything special to me." he announced dryly.

Jones chuckled. "It's worth about half a million dollars. So, it is special after all. But you know what, boss? There are tons of artworks in there that are worth significantly more. Why especially this one?".

Peter shrugged. "Maybe a rich costumer with a strange taste?" Jones chuckled again.

Peter yawned. "Enough for today, Jones. Let's take this to the evidence room and get off after that."

On his way home he couldn't help but think about that thin, desperate looking boy. He really hoped that kid was fine despite everything. He couldn't explain himself what this boy was triggering in him, but felt the growing desire to learn more about that boys history and arrest, but also help him after all.

_I'll find you, Neal Caffrey, no matter where you are! _


	8. updated

***** Update: I received a message, in which someone pointed out, that the treatment of Neal by Jones was a little to harsh and not really realistic. I really like him and totally agree, because Neal isn't fighting at all and is very young after all so I'll change that a little. But as an result, I'll change the first chapter, too. Only for those who start reading now, it doesn't make sense otherwise. And I'll update this chapter a little bit in general, because I am not fully content. But it won't be huge changes, no need to read it again if you don't want to. *****

**Hey guys, I'm so sorry for the delay, I was really sick for a few days and had to rest. Thank you soo much, I'm always full of joy when I receive a new follower, review or favourite, you're all to kind. I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer, so it's not as long as I wanted it to be. And don't worry, there's a lot more to tell! :) Please enjoy!**

* * *

After over two weeks in Keller's captivity Neal felt exhausted. He had refused to work for him for over two days in the beginning, without getting any food and only little water, but what made him really rethink his attitude was seeing Mozzie tortured by that well-known bodyguard.

They forced him to watch while his friend was smashed into pieces. The image of Mozzie, lying in his own blood, persecuted him in his nightmares after that. He screamed, cried and struck out but could do nothing to stop the beating. He couldn't reach Mozzie or talk to him. They left Neal in his cell afterwards, alone with his desperate thoughts and the sound of the breaking bones still in his ears.

After that he finally agreed to help Keller, only for Mozzies sake. They brought him in a bright room with nothing but a weasel, paint and several brushes inside. No window and no other possibility to escape. They locked him in, chained his foot to the wall and forced him to work for hours and hours on several forgeries. Neal didn't knwo what for and was smart enough not to ask. In fact, he wasn't really able to, because Keller only showed up for a little while when he finished one of his paintings. If Keller wasn't satisfied, he destroyed his work and Neal had to begin all over again and face another night without any food and with a lot of pain. He felt desperate and helpless. Even with his skills he couldn't find a way out of this mess and just tried to function. He had to admit that Keller knew exactly how to prevent any chance of an escape. As if all of that wasn't enough, he had caught a bad cold and felt his physical condition worsen day by day. He started doing scratches on the wall to count the days he was in here, because after a few days he had totally lost track of time.

The only bright spot during these otherwise gloomy days was that he somehow developed a strange relationship with Keller's bodyguard, whose name, as he got to know after he started working in the bright room, was David. He spent most of the days guarding him and held him upright with some witty sayings or anecdotes from his life, even if he was still punishing him on Keller's behalf. And sometimes he helped him out with a little more and especially edible food and provided him with news about Mozzie, who, if he could believe David's words, had recovered from his beating and was just desperate that he wasn't allowed to leave his cell or talk to Neal. When he was trying to get some sleep, he concetrated his thoughts on Mozzie._ Hold on brother, we'll work something out, sooner or later!_

Then, after over two weeks in this hell, when he could barely stand upright, Keller sent David to fetch him and had him brought into his office. Neal was roughly bumped into a chair, facing Keller behind his desk. Appearently _HE_ worked something out, acording to his satisfied facial expression. He immediately felt sick and nervously clutched the armrests of his chair.

"Ah, my dear friend. How are you today?", Keller greeted him with his greasy smile. Neal didn't bother to answer but looked at him with an expression of disgust in his face. He couldn't stop himself from coughing badley, his head felt very hot and like a balloon and he couldn't think properly.

"I see, you're not very talkative today, are you? Well, doesn't matter. We've got something to celebrate today. You know kid, after your failure two weeks ago, I had to work something out. I really need that painting. And you will get it for me!"

Neal looked him in disbelief. "You want me to steal from the museum again? That's ridiculous! After what happened the last time, I wouldn't even come close to the painting."

Keller was laughing out loud. "No. The painting isn't there anymore. You know, I've got my contacts everywhere. And I know from a safe source, that the Feds secured the painting."

Neal looked even more bewildered. "So what? You want me to steal from the FBI? You must be crazy, that would never ever work. It's like committing professional suicide."

Keller looked at him, amused and with raised eyebrows. "Ahhh, I bet you would be able to do that, Caffrey. But no, that's not what I want from you. I want you to go into that building and surrender.", he said simply.

"You WHAT?", Neal yelled out lout.

"Calm down, kid. I want you to gain a little trust from the head agent of the white collar division and after that, with some help of a friend of mine who has got access to the main facility, you'll be able to get me what I want. After that, you and your friend are free to go wherever you want."

Neal looked at him infuriated. "And what if I refuse?"

"Ahh Caffrey. You're a smart boy, I thought you would know that by now. Let me explain it this way, it wouldn't benefit you or your friend. Your forgeries aren't bad, but not good enough to justify your maintenance, you understand? And your friend... you know he's quite a bright little fellow, but I've got enough of those and he can be a bloody nuisance, if you know what I mean.".

Neal suddenly felt very tired and defenceless. He looked away and tried to maintain posture.

"Why is this painting so important, Keller? Why do you need it so badly?", he asked, as calm as possible.

"None of your business kid. Let's discuss the details of my plan, so that you feel better prepared."

When he finally finished his explanation, Neal felt overwhelmed and had another coughing attack. Keller took a step forward and reached out to touch his forehead. Neal backed away, terrified, expecting Keller to beat him again. Keller raised his hands, clearly enjoying his power.

"Oooh, come on, kid, I'm only concerned about your health. No need to be scared, little friend." He said, obviously enjoying himself.

"Give him something to lower his fever, so that we can send him to the lion's den tomorrow.", he demanded of David and dissmissed them both with a single gesture of his hand.

Back in his cell, chained to the wall again, Neal hugged his knees and began rocking back and forth, close to tears. David reentered the room and brought him his tiny pot of gruel, as usual, together with a juice against his fever. He knelt to him, touching his leg gently. Neal winced, but stopped rocking and looked into David's eyes. To his surprise, he saw a lot of compassion in the older man's face.

"Hold on, kiddo. Just do what he demands and then run with your friend, as fast as you can. Never get in touch with this man again.", he whispered and meanwhile pressed a candy bar into Neal's hand. Without another word he left him alone with his raging thoughts, rocking again, confused and desperate.

* * *

Peter sat thoughtfully at the kitchen table, stroking Satchmo's soft fur and trying to read his newspaper as usual, but couldn't concentrate. Elizabeth watched him concerned.

"What's wrong, honey? You are not yourself for over a week now.", she asked him gently.

Peter looked up in surprise. "Oh…, well, I'm sorry. I just can't get this boy out of my head. I haven't heard from him in over three weeks now. No postcard, no call, no sign of life. And I somehow got the feeling, that there's something wrong. After what happened in that alley after the heist… You know, I was more than certain that he would let me know that… just that everything is fine. I can't explain, but El… he seemed so desperate and in such a poor condition. I'd just like to know." He ran his hand nervously through his hair and then looked at his wife with a half-hearted smile. "I know, he would have to go to juvie for a long time if I arrested him and he certainly deserves it, he's a criminal after all, but at least I would know that he's safe."

His wife looked at him with so much love in her gaze, hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek softly.

"Oh Peter, that's more than sweet. Of course you're worried. This boy is part of your life for such a long time now and he isn't such a bad guy, is he? You'll find him and you'll help him, babe. Be patient. He's a smart boy, he knows how to cope on the streets. After all he could escape from the best FBI agent ever for over three years. That should tell you!", she chuckled lightly. "You know what, Peter? I'd really like to see this young gentleman in flesh sometime. I mean he's part of our lives for ages and I even know his shoe size. I think it's about time now, isn't it?." Peter chuckled too and turned to hug his wife full of love before he had to leave.

* * *

Peter felt somehow relieved after the little talk with his wife and left home with new strength. He had his desk full of more than boring cases, which came in handy to finally stop his concerns for the whole morning. When he was fully concerting on some obviously counterfeit bonds, risible compared to Caffrey's alleged art works, he looked up when he sensed something strange.

At first, he didn't know what it was. He looked out of his glazed office wall and faced some of his agents, leaning against the railing and staring at something in the lower part of the office, obscuring Peter's view. He now realised what he had sensed first: All the usual chatting noices disappeared. Clearly all the conversations outside stopped for a reason. He stood up slowly, frowning, and left his office. When he reached the parapet, he couldn't believe what he saw. Now, when he finally stopped thinking about him, Caffrey was standing in the middle of the office. Just like that.

Peter felt unable to move. The boy smiled at him and raised his hands over his head. Peter recognized his dirty clothes, his oily hair and the dark circles under his eyes.

"Hello, Peter. Nice to finally meet you in person without a fence between us.", the boy said in a husky voice. "Thought you'd be grateful for me stopping by."

Peter looked at him, impressed by the boys ability to fill him up, even in a room full of agents, but solicitous to show no expression at all. "Do you have any weapons with you, Caffrey?", he said calmly.

"Oh Peter, you know that I don't like weapons or any form of violence. I'd never harm anyone on purpose.". There was a tiny hint of fear and uncertainty in the boy's eyes.

"Good", Peter said simply, still focussing on the boy's face. He took a deep breath. "So, Neal Caffrey, you're under arrest. Kneel down and leave your hands where they are!", he said, still feeling half as confident as he felt at this sight.

Neal followed his commands and knelt down. Jones stepped forward, taking the boys arms down and putting the handcuffs on the narrow wrists behind his back. He than helped him to stand up and palpated him. Peter could see a slight shiver running through Caffrey's body, who didn't fight at all. Peter turned and walked down the stairs, his heart racing inside his chest. When he was standing face to face, just a few inches away from the young con, he looked him straight in the eyes, still expressionless.

Jones was still holding the boy's shoulder and the kid was standing there in cuffs, a little uneasy, but still trying to smile and kept Peters eyes. He looked even thinner, unbelievable young and Peter noticed his heavy breathing now he was so close to him. No one said a word for a few seconds, until the boy obviously couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"Now what, Peter? If you're not interested in what I have to say, I should rather go.", he said nervously and tried to turn a little, obviously trying to be funny, stopped by Jones' hard grip that made him wince.

"You're not going anywhere, Caffrey. You've got a lot to explain. And it's Agent Burke. I don't want to have to say that again. Get it?"

Neal raised the corner of his mouth to a sad smile and looked away. "Whatever." Peter noticed that this was the first time he hadn't received a cocky answer to one of his questions. Even though he tried his best, this boy in front of him was a shadow of his former self. _What the hell was this all about?_


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello again! I know, this took some time, but I changed directions a few times and therefore had to revise everything else. The next chapter will be located in the hospital and Neal will get to know El! Thank you so much for your support, it means a lot to me and I can't believe that so many people like my story. I'll go on as soon as possible.**

* * *

Neal found himself sitting in a plain white room, his hands still cuffed behind his back. He refused to talk to anyone but Peter and they let him wait in here. His throat was aching every time he swallowed, and he couldn't stop himself from coughing from time to time, but otherwise remained perfectly still, his eyes fixed on the tabletop.

It wasn't because he was non-cooperative, but he struggled to stay awake, so he knew he had to save his strength to be able to talk to Peter and follow the plan. Furthermore he wouldn't show them how afraid and desperate he was. After his life with his father he had a lot of practice to hide his pain and emotions.

He felt his temperature rising up again and tried to find a more comfortable position on the chair to ease the pain in his whole body a little but couldn't. He felt thirsty, hungry and a little dizzy and the handcuffs cut his wrist. He sighed softly. What would he give for a nice cup of tea right now and a warm and cosy bed, even just for an hour.

* * *

Peter was standing in front of the interrogation room next to agent Jones and Barrington. They were all glancing through the one-way-mirror, looking at the narrow shape inside, sitting on a steel chair in front of a plain table.

"He's not moving at all, just sitting in the same position for over an hour now.", Dianna said, clearly amazed.

Peter threw her a glance. "So he didn't talk? Not at all?"

Dianna shook his head. "Only once to tell us that he requires to talk to you, boss. To _Peter_.", she chuckled. "He's a polite little fellow, by the way."

Peter looked up, slightly annoyed by the boy's arrogance. "Well, I'll better get in now. I think he had enough time to think."

When he entered the room, it took the boy a few seconds to notice his appearance. He looked pale and Peter could see some welding beads on the kid's forehead. He sat down across the table and watched him carefully.

Neal finally looked up and put on a perfect smile. "Hello, Peter!", he said hoarsely.

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Are you all right, Caffrey?", he said, not mentioning the name-issue again for now.

"Of course I am!", Neal looked at him blithely and sounded almost convincing. "Uhm… It's just… do you really think these are necessary in here?", he asked, lifting his arms a little behind his back.

"Do YOU?", Peter replied, a bit too harsh.

Neal grinned. "Maybe. But see, I came here voluntarily. Do you really think I did that just to prove my escaping skills?"

"Why not? Would be a typical Caffrey, don't you think?", Peter replied, mindful not to chuckle.

The kid put on his weak smile and focused on the tabletop. "You're right. It's wise not to trust me, you really shouldn't.", he said, sounding really tired now. Peter hesitated for a moment, but then stood up and went to remove the boy's handcuffs. Neal raised his glance and smiled.

"Thank you, that's much better!", he said, rubbing his wrists. Peter nodded and went back to his chair. He could see some nasty bruises on the boy's arms and noticed a badly healed cut on the boy's face.

"Do you need something, Caffrey? A medical maybe?", he asked concerned.

Neal shook his head. "Nah, already told you I'm fine. I bet you've got a lot of questions. So, don't be shy, just ask!". He was trying hard to distract from his poor condition with his cocky behaviour but couldn't fool Peter. He sighed and eyed up the skinny kid.

"But I bet you could do with something to eat or to drink before we start, don't you?". He saw the boy struggling with himself and hesitating, clearly even unable to admit this kind of weakness. Then he obviously made a decision and beamed at Peter.

"Sure, why not? I wouldn't mind a little snack. Thank you, Peter.". Peter nodded satisfied.

"What would you like?".

The boy shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Whatever is available is fine with me, not a big effort, please!". _Barington was right, he WAS far too polite for a teen of his age!_ Peter thought and left the room to sent Jones out to get them something to eat. When he came back, he got a brief impression of how exhausted the boy was. He sat there with drooping shoulders, coughing a little and couldn't sit upright properly. As soon as the kid noticed that Peter was back, he sat up and put on his mask again, looking expectantly at the agent. Peter sat down again and watched the boy carefully.

"You're 14 now, right?"

Neal raised his eyebrows. "Oh really, THAT's you first question? Well, I suppose I'm 15 now."

The agent looked a him in surprise. "You suppose?".

"Uhm…, I…somehow... forgot my birthday last week, too much work to do. You know what I mean, your wife has probably not seen much of you in the past few weeks. A stupid birthday isn't important, doesn't really matter to me.", he shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable and tried to avoid Peter's eyes.

"I see. And what exactly were you so busy with?" The kid looked him in the eyes again and put on a crooked grin again.

"I refuse to testify", he said simply. There he was again, Mr. _nobody-can-do-anything-to me._ Peter shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"What about your parents, Caffrey? I'd like to inform them that you're with us, they will be concerned because of your absence." Peter noticed a dark shadow crossing the boy's face after that.

"It's fine, Peter. There's none to be notified. I take care of myself!", Neal said dismissively.

Peter raised his eyebrows, but before he could go on asking, Jones arrived with the food Peter ordered and spread it out on the table in front of the boy. A burger, fries, coke and a giant cookie. Neal looked stunned and a little greedy at all the food, his hands neatly folded under the tabletop.

"Go on, help yourself!", Peter encouraged him. Neal threw him a glance and started with some fries hesitantly. He ate slowly and with perfect manners at first but couldn't control himself after a while. Peter couldn't remember seeing someone eating so much food in such a short time. The poor boy really seemed half starved.

"How long haven't you eaten properly, Caffrey?", Peter asked after even the smallest crumb disappeared. Neal looked down on the tabletop again, clearly ashamed.

"I'm… I'm sorry. I'm a teenager, you know. We're always hungry. But thanks, really!", he said evasively, avoiding the answer to Peter's question. He looked up after a short while, smiling his typical Caffrey smile again. "Now I owe you one!".

Peter chuckled. "Good to know. I'll come back to that."

Neal slid around on the chair nervously now. "May I… may I go to the toilet please?".

"Of course, Caffrey! Jones will accompany you." Peter looked at him while he was leaving the room and noticed a slight limb.

He used the small break to phone his wife to tell her not to expect him for dinner tonight. After he updated her, she expressed her relief.

"Now we know he's safe, Peter. Safe with you. And what do you do next? He'll obviously need a doctor."

"He told me he doesn't want one.", he was feeling a little guilty now. Thank good he offered him something to eat, otherwise his wife would have arrived in the office in person with a bunch of food in no time and lecture him in front of his staff.

"Oh Peter, he's a child. He doesn't know what has to be done to make sure he's all right, you have to decide what he needs. I guess he just wants to play the strong and brave man in front of you. And after all you've told me, he's definitely in need of medical help. And I bet you already knew that." He sighed softly.

"You're right, hon, as always."

* * *

The young black agent guided Neal to the close by restrooms and didn't take his eyes off him, not even for a second. Neal felt a little annoyed, but made sure his expression didn't show it at all. On the surface he appeared to be calm and self-confident, he really mastered this quality. As expected, he left him alone after Neal entered the windowless room. He hurried towards the last cabin and closed the door behind him.

He opened the cistern then and removed a small plastic bag with a key card inside. He pushed it into his left shoe and washed the bag down the toilet. Outside he could hear someone entering the room.

"Come on Caffrey, what takes you so long?", he shouted out.

Neal flushed the toilet again, just to pretend and left the cabin. "No need to worry, agent Jones. Just relax a little, I won't vanish inside a windowless room. Am ready to go.", he answered, coughing again to his displeasure. But inside he felt very satisfied. _First step: Check!_ When they went back to the interrogation room, he made sure to walk as upright as possible and tried to ignore his aching knee.

_Man, David had really overdone it the last time!_

When they walked down the floor, he could see Peter standing in front of the room.

"What a nice welcome, thank you Peter!", Neal smiled broadly.

The agent didn't reply but came straight to the point. "We'll take you to see a doctor now, Caffrey. Just to make sure you're all right."

Neal's smile dropped. "I told you I don't need a doctor, Peter. I'm ok, I swear.", he said and felt the panic rising up. He couldn't leave the building. He had to save Mozzie and he had to stay here to fulfil his duty.

"I don't argue. I'll take you to the hospital. It's for your own good. Give me your hands, please." Peter took out his handcuffs.

Neal's thoughts were racing and he felt his breathing speed up. Now of all times he couldn't suppress a cough and noticed to his horror a rattle in his lungs, that couldn't be ignored by the agent in front of him.

"No, Peter, I … .", he started desperately, but the agent interrupted him.

"Your hands, Caffrey. And I really expect you to cooperate. I'll decide from now on.", he said sternly.

Neal looked him in the eyes and realized that he had no choice. He held out his wrists reluctantly and Peter put on the cuffs in front of him. The agent led him to the elevator. Neal could hardly breath and he focused on the floor to calm down a little but couldn't. _What now?_

* * *

When Peter told the kid that he had to see a doctor, the boy suddenly went pale. When they were standing in the elevator side by side, the young con just looked at the floor in front of him, obviously deep in thoughts and really worried.

"What's wrong, buddy? They won't eat you up in the hospital, you know."

Neal gave him a quick sideways glance. "It's just not necessary, Peter. I told you I'm all right."

"I know, but I don't believe you. You're for sure a genius con man, you know how to outsmart people, but right know you can't fool me. And I have the power to decide what's best for you right now."

Neal stared at the floor again, his brown, wavy hair hung straggly over his eyes. He didn't answer but shrugged powerless.

When they reached the parking level, Neal hesitated a little, but then walked beside Peter with no more resistance. During the ride to the hospital the boy remained unusual quiet, his cuffed hands neatly folded in his lap again. He looked out of his window, clearly tired as hell and coughed with a nasty rattle from time to time.

"Caffrey…", Peter began. He didn't really know what to say to ease the boy. "I'd really like to help you, you know? You made the right decision when you volunteered, and I promise that you can trust me. As soon as you're ready to work with us, I'm almost certain we can work something out."

Neal turned and stared at his hands now. "Almost certain, not too bad I suppose. But I … I have to go to jail, right?".

Peter paused for a moment but decided to be honest with the young criminal beside him. "To juvie. But yes, that's very likely. See Neal, you're a criminal and you have to pay for your offenses. But after that you can start all over again. You're still very young, there's another way for you, a better one!".

He glanced over to see the boy's expression and finally saw him smile again. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, you just called me Neal for the first time instead of Caffrey.", the boy looked at him sheepishly.

Peter smiled, too. "Want me to stick to the last name?", he chuckled.

"Naah, you'll be given honour, feel free to call me by my first name.", the boy said, sounding very generous.

Peter laughed out loud. "I guess it was about time, after all the postcards and phone call. But that doesn't change the fact that YOU should call ME agent Burke, buddy." he said emphatically, trying to hide his upcoming grin.

"Yeah, whatever Peter", the boy laughed and turned to look out of his window again, his expression tense and desperate again.

Peter's smile vanished. He felt that there was more than the fear of prison. _What kind of a burden are you carrying on your shoulders, kid? _


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks again, you're reviews are much appreciated! It's so much fun to write and I have to admit that I have it in mind all the time while doing my everyday stuff. It's only located in the hospital today, but I promise that Neal will get to know Elizabeth very soon. Neal is not himself during this scene, but as you may expect that will change soon. Please enjoy! :)**

* * *

When they walked through the main entrance of the hospital side by side, Peter could see the people around them staring at the handcuffs the boy was wearing. Neal obviously recognized the glances, too, and looked down ashamed. It didn't feel right to trust Neal, not after all that happened. But he felt very sorry for the kid.

Peter hesitated for a moment and then took off his jacket and placed it between Neal's wrist. The boy smiled a little. "Aww, Peter. I don't want to be associated with this brown fashion sin. I guess Elizabeth had nothing to do with your choice, am I right? She's got a fine taste." he chuckled and then added softly: "But thank you anyway, it's much appreciated."

Peter rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance but felt very satisfied inside. _Why on earth was the well-being of this young criminal so important to him?_ "You're welcome, Neal. And believe it or not, I'm old enough to choose my clothes myself. And tell me, how do you know of my wife's taste?"

Neal looked down again, embarrassed now. "I… I don't. Just suspected it.", he mumbled.

Peter didn't believe him, not for a second, but when the boy started coughing again, he remembered why they were here and made a mental note to come back to this subject later. He went to the registration and signed him in. After that they had to wait in a crowded room full of sick and hurt people. The boy was certainly not a priority here. They sat side by side and Peter gave Neal a worried sidelong glance from time to time. Neal couldn't hide his exhaustion now and looked terribly pale. He hung his head, but nevertheless Peter could see some fine sweat beads on the boy's forehead.

"Hold on, buddy. You'll feel better soon, they'll help you here.", he said to comfort him a little, but clearly couldn't ease the boy's misery and Neal didn't react at all. He just stared at his hands. Peter watched him with concerns and waited nervously for their turn to come.

After half an hour the boy closed his eyes and before Peter could react, he passed out on the floor. Peter called for the nurse and knelt down to lift Neal up. The young con struggled in his arms.

"No…don't… touch me! Leave…me alone. Please!", he moaned and tried to kick Peter as hard as he could in his condition.

"It's all right, kid, everything will be fine. I'm just trying to help you." Neal managed to wriggle out of the agent's grasp, his eyes widened and he fighted to stay consciousness.

"No… I'm able to walk. Just… please don't touch me.", he looked at Peter, horrified and feverish.

Peter raised his hands. "Calm down, buddy. I won't touch you anymore, I promise. Everything is all right!", he said soothingly.

He could see the boy's hands trembling again and his eyes were flickering now. The nurse came and they both followed her to an examination room. Peter could see the boy's knees shaking but he refused any help.

A young female doctor with black hair in a strict braid and a brown nickel glasses entered the room. "Hello Neal, I'm Dr. Sheppard. I'll take good care of you, don't worry. Who are you, please?", She threw a glance in Peter's direction.

"I'm Special Agent Peter Burke, Mr. Caffrey is in my custody at the moment." She looked at him, completely undismayed and put Peter's jacket away.

"All right. So, take off his handcuffs, please." Peter hesitated and her gaze became a little annoyed.

"You won't hurt me, will you?", she asked Neal gently. He shook his head, clearly ashamed by the question.

"Good, I didn't expect either. So, take them off, now. They're in my way!", she ordered in Peter's direction. Peter went forward reluctantly and removed the cuffs.

"Thanks.", she said. "Now please take off your shirt, Neal." The boy looked up, horrified again, shook his head and put his arms protectively around his chest.

"No, I can't!", he brought out, tried to back away from them and started coughing again, clearly upset.

"It's all right, Neal. I just want to have a look at your chest. I can hear your breath rattling and I suppose you're not feeling very well." She sat down on the examination table and tabbed on the free space next to her. "We'll start with something easy." She pulled an ear thermometer out of her smock and held it up.

Neal hesitated and looked at Peter for a moment than reluctantly sat down beside her and let her measure his temperature. She looked at the display.

"Pretty high. It's a wonder you could walk upright with that temperature, Neal." She looked at him sympathetically. "So, would you please take off your shirt now? I'll be as gentle as possible and will explain everything I do. You can trust me!". Neal shook his head in horror and threw Peter another glance. Dr. Sheppard followed his gaze and stood up.

"Agent Burke, may I ask you to wait outside? We won't be long.", she opened the door and looked expectantly at Peter.

The agent refused to go. "I'm sorry, but I won't leave him alone, not without any supervision.", he said sternly.

She contracted her eyebrows. "He's under MY supervision and I can handle a sick, weak and poorly thin boy, I assure you. He deserves some privacy."

Peter felt puzzled and looked at Neal. "You won't do anything stupid, will you?", he asked him.

"No, I promise.", the kid replied softly without looking up. Peter sighed.

"All right, I'll wait right in front of the room.", he said and left the room.

* * *

Peter sat down and waited for over 30 Minutes, when finally the door opened and the doctor left the examination room without Neal. She sat down next to him with a serious expression. Peter jumped up, ready to enter the room again.

"Don't worry, Special Agent, I gave him a sedative and he will soon be asleep. He won't go anywhere.", she said in a tired voice. "Agent Burke, your young villain is in a very poor condition. His whole body is covered with bruises in all shades of blue, purple and yellow and he has some nasty scars spread all over his body, too. Some of them are old, but some of them were done to him recently. I furthermore discovered a few traces which I identified as typical cigarette scars. On top of that, I'm pretty sure that some of his rips are broken and I suppose he had several other broken bones which stayed untreated in the past. We need further examinations to be certain. I'm pretty sure that he also suffers from pneumonia right now, I'll run a blood test and some x rays to prove all that. And he's far too skinny and looks malnourished. Agent Burke, Neal is a young man who has been badly abused, over many years. He let me barely touch him and was very upset in the end. I had to give him something to calm him down."

Peter looked at her, not able to answer. He knew that the boy wasn't in a good condition, but he never expected anything so severe. "But he… he will recover, won't he?", he asked, still terrified after all he had heard. "

His body will recover, yes. But his inner wounds, the ones on his soul, are very deep. It will take time, Agent Burke. And I'm not sure whether this part of him will ever recover completely. He must have suffered hell!"

* * *

Neal woke up in a white, clean and very bright room. He looked around in confusion and discovered an infusion running in his left hand. He looked to the other side and saw Peter sitting in a chair right beside him, asleep. He slowly started to realize what has happened and suddenly sat up, recognizing the handcuffs around his right wrist, attached to the bed rail and panicked. He looked around, bewildered, searching after a way to escape.

Peter woke and hurried to his bedside. "It's all right, Neal. You're save here. Just lay down, please!", he said, raising his hands again to soothe him but didn't touch him.

Neal concentrated to calm down and slowly lay back in bed, feeling very dizzy now. He felt embarrassed and childlike in his situation. How could he lose his nerves like that? He took a few deep breathes and threw Peter a sideway glance.

_He knew_. Neal could see that he knew what he had to show this stupid doctor. And he didn't like the pity in Peter's eyes. He didn't want to be pitied.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Peter, I didn't want to kick you. I didn't know what I was doing.", he said, as steady as possible. He couldn't look in the agent's eyes while talking.

"It's ok. Neal, I…", he began, but was interrupted by the boy.

"No, Peter. I don't want to talk about it. Just forget it, ok? I'm just an ordinary criminal that has to be punished, nothing more. Please treat me like that. Please!", he begged, his voice sounding desperately and he hated that.

Peter lowered his gaze. "I don't think I can, kid." He paused, deep in thoughts. "Neal, I'll leave now, but I'll be back in the morning. I'm sorry for that," he pointed to the cuffs, "But I have to. Additionally, there's a guard in front of your room the whole night. It's for your own safety, Neal."

He got no response. Neal closed his eyes, close to tears now. Peter stood up, unsure of what to do or to say. He walked slowly towards the door but turned halfway around.

"Neal, please listen to me. I know you're afraid and I know you went through a lot. But you can trust me. I'll help you I promise! But it won't work if you're not willing to talk." Still no response. "Take your time, kid. And think about my word, will you?" Nothing. Peter sighed and finally left the room. Neal couldn't stop his tears from falling now he was alone.


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm so sorry, this took a long time. I had one of my last exams in university. Thank you again for your support, it means so much to me. So, on we go! :) Have fun and thanks for reading!**

* * *

After a sleepless night, Peter felt utterly exhausted. He couldn't fade out the image of the desperate and broken boy, laying defenceless in his hospital bed. He asked himself over and over again what he could do to help him, to gain the boy's trust, to convince him of his good intentions. During the night he came to the conclusion that he shouldn't have gone so quickly after all, but he felt helpless himself and didn't know how to handle the situation right. He had the feeling, that there weren't many reliable grown ups in the kid's life before and he hadn't proofed his dependability by leaving him alone after all the boy went through. When he walked down the stairs, he felt nearly overwhelmed by his feelings of failure. El was sitting at the kitchen table, her morning tea in front of her and Peter gently kissed her forehead.

"Morning, hon!", he said but couldn't hide his exhaustion und feelings of guilt at all. He had never been good at hiding his emotions when he was with her. She made him feel safe and he felt able to open up in her company.

And of course, she now took one look at Peter and knew something wasn't right. "Good morning, love. You came home late. And it's obvious that you had a restless night. What happened yesterday?".

Peter sat down in front of her with his usual cup of coffee. He hesitantly started reporting everything that had happened but left out some of the cruel details the doctor had told him. He wasn't sure whether he did it to protect El or to protect himself, because he felt he couldn't stand to go through all of these unbearable details again. Although, he somehow suspected, that he would have to do it anyway, when the kid was ready to talk properly. But not today and not in front of his wife. He could literally see El's light grey eyes darken and she seemed close to tears but didn't interrupt him.

When he had finished, they both sat in silence for a moment. Peter took another sip from his mug, just to calm down by doing something, although he supposed coffee wouldn't really help. His wife looked at him, her expression still horrified.

"Peter, who could do something so… unbelievable _terrible _to a child? Did he tell you? What about his family? Didn't they protect him?"

Peter shook his head and sighed. "I really don't know, El. We didn't have much time to talk, but he refused to tell me more about his family background. I really got to know so many details of his life and work in all these years. Man, I even knew his shoe size before I met him but could never find out anything personal. You know that I didn't even know his age." He looked down at the tabletop. "I don't know how to get along with him now. He's a young felon and there's a lot he has to stand in for, but he's also an abused child. And he's obviously not able to trust me. El I… I really failed last night. He looked so upset and so … alone. I shouldn't have left him so early."

El took his hands gently in hers. "Peter, after all he went through it will take time. How could he trust you if there hadn't been a reliable grown up in his life until now? And I doubt there was one. You must earn his trust, step by step. Make sure he feels safe with you and respect his boundaries for now. You did that last night. He needed time to recover and to sort out what happened. I'm sure he appreciated that, and you made sure that he's well aware of how much you care. That's enough, honey, it really is."

Peter looked at her, his gaze full of love and affection. He sighed again. "But El, you have to remember, he's a criminal after all. And I have to treat him like one. He's charged with serious crimes, a lot of them unsolved and many people are keen on his testimony and further information. They don't care how he is being treated, not at all. His current attitude doesn't help him at all. I can't even make sense of why he surrendered volantary. I'm almost certain he won't give me what I want... what I need to help him and he will be in Juvie as soon as he's released from the hospital."

El shook his head with an horrified expression on her face. "No Peter. You won't allow that. You can't. He went through hell and you want to send him back to it? After all you've told me he'll perish. Tell me you'll find another opportunity. If there's no other possibility, bring him home! I'll take care of him."

He threw her a guilty glance. "You know it's not that easy, baby. I can't just bring him home with me, the agency would never allow that. I just can't promise that he won't go to juvie. I really can't!" he said and looked down again.

* * *

After a short stop in his office, Peter drove towards the hospital again. He had some sweets for the boy with him. When he entered the infirmaries' hallway, he felt a tight lump in his throat. A middle-aged, tired looking officer sat in front of Neal's room and Peter greeted him briefly, but before he could enter the room, Dr. Sheppard arrived.

"Agent Burke, do you have a minute for me?"

"Of course, is anything wrong?", he asked, suddenly very worried.

She looked him in the eyes. "I got Neal's x-rays and his results from the blood sample now. As I suspected, he has four broken ribs and additionally a broken kneecap and a crack in his temple boil. He'll get a splint for his knee, as soon as he is able – or allowed", he threw him a disapproving glance, "to stand up again. We can't really treat the other fractures, but he already got pain medication and a bandage with ointment for his chest. His fever has dropped and fortunately it isn't pneumonia, but a very nasty bronchitis. His body has nothing to oppose, agent burke. His blood sample showed terrible values, he has severe deficiency symptoms. That's why I wanted to talk to you. Neal refuses to eat. But he has to. His body has a lot to cope with and that's not possible while he's so malnourished. You have to convince him!"

Peter looked at her, bewildered. "I will. But Dr. Sheppard, he ate yesterday when he was with me, before we came here. Why do you think he refuses to eat now?".

The young doctor sighed. "I can't tell, but I can guess. The nurse told me that he found him covered in sweat and shouting after someone when he came in his room last night and he could barely soothe him. And… my assumption had been confirmed. We found several bones in his body which had been broken and healed badly. I think we crossed a line yesterday and he has to deal with the consequences now. And one last but important thing, Agent Burke, although I would like to, I can't keep him in hospital for long. He's definitely in a bad condition, but that won't be enough to justify a long stay. We can't actually do much for him in here. So please, make sure he has a place to recover after he will be released from hospital. He needs care and more important time to convalesce, unlike you want him to develop pneumonia though. I guess he can stay here until tomorrow, but not longer."

Peter nodded and didn't know what to say. He felt he couldn't tell her that juvie seemed to be the only option available right now. She waved him goodbye and hurried away. Peter couldn't move for a short while, but then took a deep breath and finally entered Neal's room.

"Hey buddy, I…", he began, but then looked horrified at the empty bed in front of him, the handcuffs dangling from the bed rail. He looked around and felt panic rising up his throat. He crossed the room hastily and looked out of the window. It was slightly open, but there was nothing to climb down and they were on the second floor.

_He couldn't have jumped, could he?, _he thought in horror.

He ran back to talk to the guard outside, but then noticed a sound coming from the bathroom. The door opened and Neal came out in his hospital gown, limping but clearly in a far better mood than yesterday. He nearly bumped into Peter and stumbled back, smiling innocently.

"Whoa, Peter. Didn't hear you come."

Peter looked at him, perplexed and furious. He took a deep breath and pointed to his left. "Go back in bed.", he said, his voice trembling a little.

Neal raised his hands to ease him, his eyes were suddenly wide in surprise and he quietly obeyed without another word. He didn't even try to hide his bad knee now while walking and looked at Peter with his innocent blue eyes.

"What's wrong, Peter?", he asked him, clearly aware of what he had done.

"Oh Neal, this isn't a game. You're under arrest and you have to follow my rules. It's necessary, for your own safety. How did you do that?", he said, looking at the cuffs and trying to calm down a little.

"Professional secrecy.", Neal said with his well-known cockiness.

Peter groaned annoyed and took the handcuffs. The boy willingly held out his wrist. "I'll use another one on the other side if this doesn't work out, understand?", he said sternly. "You obviously don't know what's good for you. I AM good for you, kid. But only if you start to follow my rules." He couldn't make sense of this boy. How could someone change from a frightened little boy in a shrewd conman in less than a few hours? After all that happened yesterday, he couldn't believe this. "Neal, I have to make sure that you are safe. I'm almost certain that you were about to run. That won't happen, do you understand? You have to stop running, it's all over now. Your past will catch up, no matter where you go. And believe me, I'll always find you!"

At least the kid was looking a little guilty now. "I didn't intent to run Peter, I swear. Not at all. I just had to use the toilet and I really wasn't keen on calling the pretty nurse with the bedpan, you know. I won't remove them again. I promise.", he said softly.

Peter felt his anger slowly decrease. "Prove it!", he said.

Neal looked at him in confusion. "How?"

"Tell me how you did it.", Peter raised his eyebrows expectantly.

The kid looked him in the eyes and hesitated. His expression reflected his mixed emotions, he certainly wanted to please Peter, but also wanted to hold back his secret. After a few silent seconds, Neal shrugged and slowly pulled out a little bobby pin from under his blanket.

"The pretty nurse I told you about … lost it when she came in with my breakfast.", he told him matter-of-factly.

"I see, she lost it, huh?", Peter said and held out his hand. Neal took a deep breath and offered him his tool. "Pretty impressive!", he had to admit.

Neal shrugged again. _Probably not a big deal for a young con with his skills, I should have known better!, _Peter thought. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to the boy.

"Ok, let's say this topic is done. Just… don't do it again! All right?". The boy nodded

He paused and braced himself for what he had to say next. "Buddy… why did you refuse to eat this morning?".

Neal avoided his eyes and stared at the blanket now, his cockiness suddenly vanished. "Don't know, I just wasn't hungry. Peter…I know what the doctor told you, but I really don't want to talk about it. I just don't! It's ok, I'll get along. I know I had to let them do all this examinations, but I didn't want them to. It's my past... my issue. Like I said, I can take care of myself!". He threw him a repellent glance.

And Peter could see the small, helpless and desperate boy he had to face the night before. But this time Neal managed to keep on his mask. He finally smiled at him. "I feel a lot better now. And I know, I haven't been much of a help until now, sooo, Agent Burke, why don't we go back to your office and I'll start answering your questions. I promise I'll do what I can to satisfy you guys!", his voice sounded very professional again.

Peter rubbed his temples, but thinking of his wife's words, he knew that he had to accept the boy's lack of trust, for now. "Won't happen, kid. You're obviously not in the constitution to go anywhere. You have to rest! And you have to eat." He pulled the sweets out of his jacket. "I suppose these aren't the essentials you need right now but try some anyway! And please promise to eat whatever they serve for lunch and dinner."

Neal looked at the sugary mix incredulous, as if Peter offered him a valuable treasure. "For me? Thank you, Peter! I haven't had sweets for ages.", now he appeared like a little boy again, but like a happy one. Peter smiled satisfied. Neal opened the bag with his free hand and tried some of the small marshmallows inside with huge enthusiasm.

"Didn't you have the opportunity to buy sweets lately?", he asked gingerly.

Neal stopped eating and frowned for a split second. "Told you, I've had a lot to do.", he avoided Peter's gaze again.

Peter sighed. "All right, just tell me when you're ready talk. IF you'll ever be."

Neal smiled again and threw him a sideway glance. "Will do!".

After that they both stayed quiet for a few minutes. After a short while, Neal broke the silence. "Peter…what will happen now. I mean … with me? I suppose I can't stay here forever, and you won't let me go back in that cosy interrogation room of yours. So… what comes next?", he asked, trying to sound very self-confident, but couldn't hide his anxiety after all.

Peter felt uneasy, but decided to tell him the truth. The boy deserved his honesty if he ever wanted him to trust. "Before we go on, you'll need time to recover. Well buddy… you're a young felon and… you're under arrest. So, there's no other way, I'll pick you up tomorrow and you'll spend some days in juvie."

The boy's face went pale and he looked horrified. Peter quickly added: "I'll make sure that you'll be kept in solitary confinement. And I'll visit you as soon as you feel better and we can go on with the questioning." This evidently did nothing to soothe the boy, his eyes widened in even greater shock.

It took the kid some time to realize the whole truth, then he brought out faltering: "Peter… do you really think that juvie is a nice place to recover? I can tell you, it's not. Not at all. Please… don't you have a holding cell or something like that in your headquarter? I'll do whatever necessary, answer any possible question as best as I can, but please don't send me to juvie!", he begged desperately.

Peter felt a little taken aback. He hadn't suspected such a strong reaction and his expression softened. "Like I told you, Neal. I'll help you whenever it is possible, as long as you are willing to work with us. But you're a criminal. It's not up to me, you have to pay for what you did and there's no other possibility than juvie right now. But like I told you, you're still young and there's plenty of time to change your life. You just need to try hard. But I really think that you're able to change your life, kid! Leave your past behind!".

Neal stared at his blanket and didn't answer. After that he remained quiet and refused to talk. When Peter left the hospital, he had a bad feeling in his gut. He though about El's words. A boy like him, who suffered in hell, shouldn't be send back willingly. And he somehow felt she was right. He sighed and made his way back to the office.

* * *

After Peter left, Neal was about to suffocate. His whole body felt numb and had to focus to avoid freaking out. He couldn't go to juvie. It wasn't possible. He had to save Mozzie, nothing else mattered. He didn't know what to do exactly, but he knew that juvie wasn't an opportunity. Not at all. So, he had to do it on his own somehow, he had to work something out.

Suddenly his door opened, and the pretty nurse came in.

"Hey Neal, I've got your lunch. Please don't leave it untouched this time, you have to eat properly, you know? You're far to skinny!"

He managed a wide and hopefully convincing Caffrey smile. "Don't worry, Dana, I will. Thanks!". She looked pleased and left his room, waving back delighted.

Neal's smile dropped, but he felt his strength return and pulled out another bobby pin. He began to remove the handcuffs again with deliberate movements. Fortunately, Peter didn't search him. But on the other hand, there were many other possibilities in this room to get rid of these things, the mechanism was laughable .

He felt a little guilty, because he couldn't do what he promised to Peter, but he had no choice. After he finished, he slipped out of bed and limped towards the bathroom again. He didn't lie when he told Peter that he had no intention to run, not before he told him that he had to go to juvie. But he wasn't in need of the toilet, either.

When the doctor told him to take off his clothes yesterday, he managed to hide the key card in his shoe. And after a short search in the morning, he found his stuff, stored in a white plastic bag, in the bathroom.

When Peter entered the room, he had to hide it again, but it worked out well and Peter didn't even glanced inside the bathroom. Neal pulled out the card and looked at it. He hated to betray Peter, but didn't need his help, either. Mozzie was family, Peter wasn't and would never be. Neal couldn't just leave his old life behind, he had no other option but to go on and Peter wasn't able to stop him. He remained an Agent and could never understand what Neal was going through.

Neal took his ugly clothes and started to get dressed. After that, he covered his body in the hospital gown again, do hide his clothes and went back to bed. He put on the handcuffs again and tried to rest a little, the disgusting food still untouched. He planned to run as soon as the night began.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello again! :) Thanks again for your comments! This chapter was kind of emotional for me. Please enjoy and thank you for reading it! :)**

* * *

After visiting Neal, Peter drove back to the office, still deep in thoughts. He sat down behind his desk, on which the files piled high and tried to focus on his most recent case, a well-planned bank fraud, but couldn't concentrate. Peter opened a thick file and leafed through it, when he finally looked at some real good bonds.

He couldn't help but smile. Definitely Neal's work. Even though another proof for his criminal career wouldn't help, Peter had to admire the fine artwork in front of him. How could a teenage boy create something like this? How could that be possible? The bank had only recognized the deception because they got a hint from an unknown person. They couldn't even tell how many of the bonds were in circulation and would therefore also be keen on the boy's testimony.

Peter sighed. He leaned back in his chair and looked contemplatively out of his windows. The boy was right. Juvie wasn't a place to recover, not even in solitary confinement. But what could he do to help him? He rubbed his temples and finally made a decision. He stood up and went to see his boss, Agent Reese Hughes, in his office.

* * *

Peter cleared his throat when he entered.

"Sir, may I interrupt you for a minute?"

Hughes looked up from his desk. "Peter, of course you can, what's the matter?"

Peter sat down in front of his boss. "Sir… I wondered… I visited Caffrey today and…".

Hughes interrupted him. "Right, Peter, I wanted to discuss the whole case anyway. When do you think can we continue with the questioning? There's a lot to catch up and I don't want to risk the kid disappearing again. Is he able to talk to you? And more important, is he willing to talk? We have to appease a lot of victims.".

"Um, no boss, unfortunately he's not well enough to continue." He summarized briefly what happened and what he got to know about the boy's condition.

Hughes looked at him, obviously stunned. "I see, poor boy… Nevertheless, I hope you stay professional, Peter? His information is valuable. I still can't believe he did everything we accuse him of. But if he did, you have to do whatever it takes to get him to talk, Peter. Regardless of his past."

Peter took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. "I know, boss. That's why I wanted to talk to you. He will be released tomorrow and I know, I'm supposed to take him to juvenile prison after that. The doctor told me that he will need some time to recover before we can go on. And boss… I figured… juvie isn't really the right place to recover and it's definitely not a cosy place to open up…".

Peter paused for a moment and Hughes looked at him questioningly. "I agree. But I'm afraid it's the only option, don't you think so? I told you, pity is not appropriate. We have to treat him like any other criminal and make him talk."

Peter sighed. "Yes sir, you're right. But I think juvie won't make him talk. He's a young felon, but also a traumatized and sick kid. He needs a warm and secure environment to open up."

"You may be right Peter, but like I said, there's no other option, unless you want to take him home.", his boss chuckled.

Peter remained quiet and just raised his eyebrows. Hughes laughed in disbelieve. "You want to bring him home? Neal Caffrey? The one you were hunting for all these years? Your wife will be delighted."

"In fact, she mentioned it first. And yes, she will be delighted, she's very good with kids and will take good care of him… . Boss, I know that's not the usual procedure. And I know he's a criminal and has to be treated like one. But I'm pretty certain that this could be the key to penetrate to him. To make him talk, like you said, I will have to earn his trust and that won't happen in juvie." Actually, he had to hide his own uncertainty, but he had to try.

Hughes looked at him thoughtfully for a moment and then replied, a little hesitantly. "All right, Peter. If that's what you want. Under one condition. Find a way to make sure that he won't run. Under no circumstances, you understand?".

Peter nodded. "Absolutely, sir. And I've been thinking this through. What do you think of a tracking anklet? The new models are very secure, you can't just cut them. And he would always be under my surveillance."

Hughes sighed. "Good enough, let's give it a try. I really hope you know what you're doing, for your own sake. He's your responsibility and your risk."

After that, Peter went back to his office, the thoughts and doubts swirling in his head. _Oh my, what did you just do Peter Burke, are you insane?, _he thought and shook his head in disbelief.

* * *

When the sun went down, Neal pretended to be asleep when the nurse came in to see if he was all right. His stomach rumbled, but he wasn't able to eat anything when they served him dinner. He felt sick, frightened and nervous again and had to fight against his sleepiness. He started coughing again and felt hot and dizzy. But the thought of Mozzie gave him the strength he needed. This had to be done and he would do it, no matter what.

Neal knew that the officer in front of his room regularly checked on him to make sure he was asleep and then left his own chair for a couple of minutes to use the toilet. After that, he would take a look inside of his room again and would find his bed empty, but Neal couldn't change that. He had to be quick.

When finally the door opened, Neal remained perfectly silent and breathed calmly and slowly, to create a credible illusion. Satisfied, he heard the door close again and after that removed the handcuffs in under five seconds. When he slipped out of bed, he felt dizzy and very weak again and the pain in his knee and chest almost made him fall, but he managed to stand upright. He got rid of his hospital gown and went silently out of his room.

He felt his heart pounding in his chest. As expected, the officer was nowhere to be seen. Neal walked deliberately slow down the hall and greeted a nurse casually on his way to the stairs. She looked a little suspiciously but didn't say anything and just nodded when he came by. When Neal reached the stairwell, he felt his tension decrease, but he knew that he wasn't safe yet.

He hurried down the stairs, as fast as his knee allowed him to. When he reached the ground floor, he headed towards the rear exit. He knew the hospital had one, because his father once used it to get away with him after a pretty nasty cut in his arm that didn't stop bleeding. His father dropped him in front of the hospital and incensed him not to give away his real name and told him to disappear as soon as the work had been done.

Neal remembered the situation very well. He was about ten years old and felt dizzy because of the blood loss and just wanted to sleep. Moreover he felt very alone and desperate, but didn't know what else to do but to obey his father. He owed him the cut, like so many before. His father used to wave around with an inherited knife when he was drunk and pissed, until Neal manged to steal it a few month later.

When it happed, he was just starting his _career_ and created his first professional forgeries. His father saw his high potential immediately and knew how to use it to make money. But he was never satisfied and always found new ways to torture him. So, after his father left him alone to get his treatment, Neal knew very well that this was an opportunity to escape. But he would never ever go into foster care and didn't know where else to go. He had the experience of a foster family once and wasn't keen on another try. Moreover, his father found him back then and promised to find him wherever he would go. And Neal believed him! His son meant nothing to him but was his only source of income. And he really needed the money to maintain his _lifestyle, _which meant as much drugs, fast food and weapons as possible.

So, Neal told the nurses and the doctor that his name was Nick Halden, one of his favourite aliases, and pretended that he had forgotten his parent's phone number. He behaved like a little boy, vulnerable and innocent and enjoyed the fuss they made of him. But after his treatment, unfortunately before he had another painkiller, he heard the nurses talking about social service and knew it was time to escape.

He sneaked out exactly like he would do almost four years later and met his father on the ground floor. Neal saw his hands trembling as soon as he left the stairwell and immediately knew he wasn't in a good mood. His father grabbed his arm and drew him towards the rear exit. He still had his voice in his ear. "What took you so long, you little bastard?", he squeezed his injured arm and Neal flinched, but remained quiet and just followed his father out of the hospital. His life wasn't worth living until he met Mozzie one year after that.

He could still feel the pain as if it was yesterday and stroke his scar, lost in thoughts, while walking. When he could already see the slightly illuminated exit, he heard footsteps behind him. "Neal!", someone shouted and immediately stopped horrified.

* * *

Peter decided to visit Neal again in the evening, to tell him what he was planning to do. He called Elizabeth right after his decision and, as he expected, his wife was enthusiastic and started preparing the guest room right away. Although some doubts remained, he felt a lot lighter than the last time when he entered the main entrance again.

He headed towards the elevator, but suddenly stopped. He could see a familiar looking small and narrow person coming out of the stairwell and instantly recognized the limping._ Oh man, he couldn't believe it_. Peter followed the boy and was very close to him when the kid reached the rear entrance.

"Neal!", he shouted, his hand on his weapon and the kid didn't move anymore. Neal slowly turned around and looked at Peter, horrified and absolutely desperate.

Neal raised his hands a little in front of him and looked at the door beside him, frightened like a trapped animal.

"Don't. Please don't.", Peter said calmly and decide to leave his gun where it was. He raised his hands, too, to soothe the kid and slowly approached him. Neal backed away and pressed his back against the wall. Peter could see tears running down his cheeks. When he came closer, Neal desperately shook his head.

"No…please, just let me go. Please. I really have to!", he begged through his tears.

I can't, buddy. You know that I can't.", Peter said regretfully.

The boy slowly slid down the wall and sobbed uncontrollably. Peter looked at him for a moment and then sat down next to the kid and without hesitation pulled him into his arms. Neal flinched and struggled at first to get away from him, but this time Peter didn't let him go. He just held him tight and the kid slowly started to accept his closeness and relaxed.

They sat there together for half an eternity and didn't move at all. Peter looked down at the kid's brown, wavy hair and could feel his warm body in his arms and a flood of affection was running through his body.


	13. Chapter 13

**There's the next one :). I'm really grateful for all of you who keep on reading. It's such an honour that you spend your time with my writings. Thank you so much! And once again a special thank you to Dobby, my most loyal companion! :) What I want to explain is: I've been working with troubled and abused kids for a few years and I know that they open up quite slowly (sometimes they never do) and they often need a lot of patience and time to trust anyone and I think my experiences reflect in my writings, it's a slow process. And: I know I promised this a long time ago, but now it's about time that El and Neal get to meet each other, don't you think? Have fun. :)**

* * *

After Neal calmed down a bit, he gingerly sat up and remained quiet. Peter could still feel his body shaking next to him and heard his rattling cough again. Neal hung his head and wrapped his arms tightly around his knees. Peter gave him a sidelong glance. He felt insecure and helpless. If only El was here! She would know exactly what to do.

He sighed and slowly got up. "Come on, buddy, let's go back. I suppose hell is going on up there and I better take care of it before the whole NYPD is on their way." He said gently and held out his hand to help the boy up. Neal winced at the unexpected movement, but then raised his eyes and took Peter's offered hand reluctantly. Again, the Agent noticed, how light the boy was, far too light. Neal hung his head again and they both walked quietly back to the elevator, side by side.

"I'm sorry, Peter.", Neal said softly, without looking up and all his exhaustion and despair lay in these few words. The Agent looked at him and didn't know how to reply, so they both remained quiet. He couldn't just overlook what happened but felt that he wasn't willing to give up his recent plans, either and it wasn't the right time for another lecture.

When they entered the second floor, Peter immediately knew he was right, there was pure chaos. The officer ran headless from room to room and all the staff members seemed alerted, too. Peter guided Neal through the corridor and saw the officer pause at their sight.

"I… I just… I was only gone for a minute and I checked on him before, I swear Agent Burke!", he stuttered desperately.

Before Peter had the chance to answer, Neal raised his head and said in a firm voice. "He's right, Peter. I conned him deliberately and it really wasn't his fault." He looked directly at the officer. "I'm sorry that I caused you trouble, sir."

The officer was looking at him, obviously as stunned as Peter felt. This boy managed to stay polite in any situation, no matter how hopeless it seemed to him. Peter shook his head and guided him back in his room.

"Stay here for a minute, I'll be back soon. And DON'T move. Understand?". Neal nodded dejectedly.

After that Peter went out again to stop the cavalry and to calm the officer and staff down. He felt as exhausted as the kid looked after all that happened. When he finally entered Neal's room again, he found him sitting on the edge of his bed. Peter took a chair and leaned back, sighting. The boy avoided looking at him again and they both waited in silence for a few minutes.

"You know, Caffrey, I really don't know what's going on in you, I just don't get it. I repeat myself by saying: You need to talk to me! I told you, I'll find you, wherever you go, so _PLEASE _make it easier for both of us and start talking and stop doing such stupid things. Running is not a solution. I don't think it was just the thought of juvie, was it?". No reply, no movement, nothing.

Peter felt a surge of frustration. "All right, this is not taking us anywhere. I won't leave you alone in here again, I tell you that. So, they have to release you tonight if possible. I'll clarify that." He stood up to leave the room.

The boy jerked his head up, his eyes wide in shock. "No, please don't!", he begged silently, sounding very powerless. Peter realized that the boy assumed to go to juvie right now and sat down again.

"It's ok, Caffrey, calm down. You won't go to juvie... at least not yet. I'll take you home. It will give you the chance to recover and we will have plenty of time to talk.", he said soothingly.

"You… what?", the boy's facial expression changed from deep fear to total confusion in a split second and Peter felt the urge to chuckle. "But... you're sure Peter? I mean I am a … what about your wife?", he asked, still looking very bewildered.

Now Peter couldn't stop himself from laughing. "She's looking forward to meet you in real life, buddy. I mean, you've been part of our marriage for over three years now, so I guess it's about time!". Neal looked down ashamed. "Aww, come on kid. It's fine. She's preparing your room right now.", he said gently but could still see the incredulity in Neal's gaze. "All right, I'll be back with the doctor in a few minutes. Try to relax!"

After that, he left the room, the contrite looking officer still sitting in front of his room and took care of the boy's discharge from the hospital. He phoned Agent Jones, too, to organize a proper tracking anklet as soon as possible. Before the two of them left, Neal got his splint to support his damaged knee and they both listened to the doctor's advices regarding his several injuries.

In the end she looked at Neal, a serious expression on her face. "And Neal, you have to EAT, do you understand? You haven't had a proper meal today and that won't help to improve your general constitution." She tried to touch his arm, but Neal pulled it away and she accepted his refusal. "Take good care, kid. Inner scars need some time to heal, but they will if you let them. Please remember that!", she said and said good-bye. Neal focused on the floor again.

Peter stood up. "Ready to go, Caffrey?"

Neal slowly slid from his bed and nodded a little uneasy. Peter removed the handcuffs from the bed rail and Neal willingly stretched out his wrists. Peter hesitated for a moment. "I don't think we need them, do we?". Neal looked surprised again and reluctantly shook his head. Peter packed them away.

"I mean, it's not like they're going to stop you from doing stupid things anyway, is it?", he said chuckling again.

Neal managed a crooked grin and shrugged. "Not really!", he admitted. On their way out of the hospital, Neal made no attempt to run but walked quietly beside Peter. When they reached his car, Neal looked at it and smiled slightly.

"You know what, Peter? I never thought you'd drive a Taurus."

"Why not? It's a safe and reliable car.", Peter felt the tension in himself ease a little.

"May be, but it just has no style at all.", Neal replied dryly and slid on the passenger's seat. Peter laughed and started driving. They stayed quiet for a while and Neal looked out of his window again, coughing from time to time.

"Why?", he said suddenly.

"Why what?", Peter replied.

Neal turned around to face him. "Why… are you taking me home? Why do you even care? After all I've done. You know, I'm a troublemaker, I'll always be. I think I have proven this sufficiently. Me locked up in juvie would be a lot easier for you." He lowered his eyes again.

"I don't think you'll remain a troublemaker, Caffrey. Being a criminal is not a fate, it's a decision. And I really think you're able to change your life, if that's what you want. But it's hard work and you need a strong attitude. And people to help you!"

Neal looked out of his window again. "It's not always that easy, Peter. There isn't just black and white, you know. There are many shades of grey between.", he sounded very tired and a lot older than he was.

"Peter…", Neal spoke hesitantly. "I know you're disappointed. But… I'd like you to call me Neal again. Please. I mean, I'm about to… enter your private home, I think it's appropriate, don't you?". He smiled a little wider now.

"All right, Caffrey.", Peter teased him and Neal laughed.

* * *

When they reached Peter's driveway, he could see the nervousness in Neal's expression.

"No need to be scared, Neal. My wife won't eat you up. Actually she's the nicest person you could ever imagine! You'll see."

Neal nodded gratefully, but when they were both standing at the front door, Peter could see the boy's hands trembling. He resisted the urge to lay a hand on the boy's shoulder. Even though he allowed Peter to hug him a few hours ago, he knew he had to respect the kid's boundaries if possible and he certainly didn't want to be touched if it wasn't necessary.

They entered the hallway and could hear noises coming from the living-room.

"Hon?", Peter shouted.

Neal looked around cautiously and followed Peter when he walked towards the laughter. Agent Jones was sitting on Peter's couch next to El, they both had a cup of tea in their hands. Neal looked at them, a little overwhelmed.

His wife stood up. "Ahh, there you are.", she said, stood up and hurried to welcome their guest.

"You must be Neal. It's a pleasure to meet you, love.", she said and gently touched his shoulder.

Peter smiled. She was well aware that Neal wouldn't like to be hugged, what she would normally do in such a situation, not yet. As always, she knew instinctively what to do and Peter could already see Neal relax a bit.

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Burke, I'm honoured.", the boy replied.

"Please call me Elizabeth, or El if you like. I mean, it feels like I've known you forever. You've been part of our life for a couple of years now. And I've heard that you already know very well about us, too.", she winked at him. Neal blushed a little and grinned.

Peter could see the little boy in him again. He still couldn't believe everything that had happened. The formerly unknown conman which he had chased for three years, was standing in his living-room, chatting to his wife and blushing like a little kid, which he was. He slightly shook his head. When Jones stood up, Neal spun around and focused on him, the tension back in his whole body.

"Nice to see you again, Caffrey.", Jones said casually and handed Peter a black, solid locking anklet.

Neal looked from him to Peter. "What is this all about?", he said suspiciously.

"It's all right, Neal. Calm down and sit on the sofa please. I'll explain then!". Neal hesitated. He felt the eyes of the three adults on him. After a moment, he reluctantly did like Peter said and sat down. Peter was standing in front of him.

"This", he began and showed him the anklet. "Is a tracking anklet. You'll wear it as long as you're with us. That's our condition for making this possible. I'll always know where you are and I'm the only one who has the key for this thing. You'll have a two miles radius and as soon as you cross the line and aren't with me, I'll come and get you and there will be no mercy anymore. And even a brilliant conman like you won't outsmart this devise. So, please don't even try it. It's for your own safety and we just can't risk another escape of you. And please stop telling me you won't try. I'm sorry, but my trust in you vanished on this point."

Neal looked at the device, a tired and resigned expression on his face. "Do I have a choice?", he asked softly.

"No… I mean yes, you have. It's this or juvie. What do you prefer?", Peter said sternly.

Neal didn't bother to answer and pulled his pants up with a small sight. Peter nodded satisfied and opened the device. He knelt to wrap it around Neal's ankle.

The boy looked with reluctance in his face, bis brows raised. "I see, it's just another form of prison."

El joined him on the sofa and said, with a warm smile on her face: "But a prison with fantastic food, a cosy bed and people who take good care of you, isn't that something?"


	14. Chapter 14

**Hi Guys, thank you again for your comments, the sweeten my life! :) This is not the whole chapter, but I'm somehow not satisfied with the second half and so I decided to publish at least the first part. Enjoy :)!**

* * *

Neal felt like an intruder when he was sitting on the Burke's sofa while Elizabeth prepared dinner and Peter went out to talk to Agent Jones in private. About him, he assumed. He couldn't believe the Agent was willing to let him stay, after chasing him for almost three years. He pulled up his pants and looked at the tracking anklet. It felt kind of weird, cold and uncomfortable.

_One more thing to worry about_, he sighed, but felt far too tired to think straight. His surrounding seemed to be covered in fog and he felt the urge to close his eyes. But he had to work something out. He refused to think about it, but honestly, he wasn't even sure if his friend was still alive. Mozzie wasn't as used to pain and hunger as Neal was and Keller certainly wasn't pleased considering his little progress.

When Peter mentioned his plan to let him stay in his home, Neal realized that this meant that he probably had a much better chance to get back to the headquarter, but he knew it would take some time. So, he had to contact Keller as soon as possible, to tell him that he was still on the right track. And he would require getting in touch with Mozzie, to prove he still was all right, otherwise he wouldn't go on.

He leaned forward and put his head in his hands, just to rest for a minute and strongly felt the heaviness of his tired body and the desire to sleep. Then suddenly he was startled when someone sat down right beside him. Neal backed away with a gasp and accidently slapped Peters arm.

"It's all right, kid, it's just me!", Peter said soothingly.

Neal slowly relaxed and looked down embarrased. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I… just dropped off for a moment I guess."

Peter chuckled. "It's all right kid, I won't arrest you for a little slap. Try to relax, we both won't bite you!"

Neal nodded and leaned back. He had to admit that it felt kind of strange to sit next to Peter in such a private environment. Neal looked around and admired the cosy and inviting furnishing. He had never been in a proper home before, he had never even _known_ someone who owned a place like this, so it was like foreign territory to him. This, together with his exhaustion, let his usual confidence vanish. Neal felt Peter's eyes on him and quickly lowered his gaze again, he didn't want to be outrageous by observing the Burke's possessions.

"Are you looking for something valuable that you could monetize?", Peter said, still chuckling.

Neal threw him a terrified sideway glance. "You know I would never…". Peter quickly interrupted him.

"Calm down, buddy. I was just joking. Moreover, I'm afraid you wouldn't find anything valuable." Neal smiled a little.

Peter stood up and went to a cupboard on the opposite wall. He opened a small Box inside, took out a plastic bag and handed it over to Neal. "Do you know what that is?", he asked.

Neal immediatly recognized his own postcard from Paris on top of all the others he had send to Peter.

"You kept them?", he said in surprise.

"Of course I did, they were evidences.", the Agent said matter-of-factly.

"Oh… right!", Neal said, a little disappointed.

"Why did you do that? The postcards, gifts, the phone calls…? What for?", Peter asked thoughtfully.

Neal hesitated and then shrugged. "I…don't really know."

"Aww, I bet you do. And … why did you stop doing it lately?", Peter added.

Neal shrugged again. "Like I told you, several times by the way, I had a lot to do recently and writing postcards wasn't on top of my agenda."

Peter paused for a second. "But what you haven't told me is: Busy with what?", his tone suddenly became serious.

Neal looked at him dismissively. "Is this an interrogation again, Agent Burke? If it is, please let's postpone it until tomorrow. Please!" He felt uneasy, started coughing again and struggled to sit upright.

Before Peter had the chance to reply, his wife entered the living-room. She obviously felt the tension in the room.

"All right, boys. Dinner's ready! Come on.", she said.

They both looked at each other and then stood up and followed her in the kitchen. Neal waited uncertainly at the end of the table until both of the Burke's sat down. Elizabeth pointed on the chair next to her.

"No need to be shy, just sit down, love!", she said gently. He reluctantly walked over and took a seat. Neal looked at the food in front of him. Fresh bread and herb butter, a delicious looking salad, olives and pasta with tomato sauce, meatballs and vegetables. He felt a little overwhelmed again. He couldn't remember his last proper meal and maybe never had something even approximately similar. He raised his gaze and found El and Peter observing him again. It was all too much. He just wanted a quiet place, just for himself, without an FBI-Agent and his wife staring at him in front of mountains of food.

"That looks fantastic, Elizabeth. Thank you so much! I really appreciate it!", he said and managed a hopefully convincing smile.

She smiled back. "You're more than welcome, Neal. I hope you like pasta. Otherwise I could…".

"Pasta is perfect, don't worry!", he interrupted her. They started eating. Neal didn't feel hungry at all, even though it tasted delicious, he felt too exhausted and nervous. He took small bites, couldn't stop himself from coughing again and struggled to cope with the worried glances from across the table.

"So Neal, what's your favourite food?", El tried to make conversation.

He shrugged. "I'm not a picky eater. Whatever is available is fine.", he replied indeterminate but as polite as possible. All he wanted was to stand up and run and he didn't know how to act and he certainly didn't belong here.

"All right… and what about school? What's your favourite subject?", Neal appreciated her kindness, but he wasn't in the mood to do Smalltalk and definitely not willing to tell them that he had to quit school after fourth grade to get to work full-time. Even though he knew that Elizabeth didn't mean to, he felt as if he was being interrogated again. And he knew that Peter was listening very carefully to get to know more about his background, and Neal felt far too tired to choose his words wisely.

"I…don't really like school!", it wasn't a lie, he actually didn't like it. Too many rules, too much boring subjects without any progress or challenge and too many kids who teased him for his worn-out clothes. He concentrated on his plate again, not able to be polite anymore. When he started coughing again, even harder this time, and lay down his fork, he felt his hands trembling again. Clearly Elizabeth noticed it, too. She reached out to touch his forehead. Neal backed away.

"Please, don't!", he said a little repellent again.

El looked a bit taken aback. "I'm sorry honey, I really am. I just wanted to feel your temperate, I suppose you've got a fever." Neal looked at her with glassy eyes and then lowered his gaze on his plate again.

"_I_ am sorry, Elizabeth. I didn't mean to… I… I just don't really like being touched."

"It's absolutely fine, Neal. I'll respect that in the future. All right, even though you should have eaten a lot more than you did, I think that's enough for tonight. You can go back and relax on the couch, while Peter and I take care of the dishes and after that I'll show you your room."

Neal stood up slowly. "But… I can help!", he weakly protested.

"Definitely not. It's all right. And I know someone who, for sure, would like to keep you company.", she turned around and opened the door to the backyard. A light beige whirlwind swept through the kitchen and headed straight for Neal. The lab wagged his tail in excitement and tried to reach his face to lick it. Neal couldn't stop himself from laughing.

"Hey Satchmo, I've already wondered where you are!", he greeted the friendly dog.

Elizabeth shook his head. "You really know a lot about us, don't you kid?", she said grinning.

Neal shrugged, feeling a little uneasy again. _You better watch your words, Neal!_ He stroked the dogs head gently and enjoyed the feeling of the soft fur under his hands, when Satchmo started licking them.

"See, he likes you!", Peter said with a smile. "So, you two. Do as my beloved wife told you, it's time to recover!" Neal nodded reluctantly, stood up stiffly and went back to the couch, followed by Satchmo.

* * *

After Neal had left the room, the couple began to wash the dishes together.

"I understand why you're feeling so attached to him, Peter.", El began quietly. "He's a lost soul, full of desperation. I can tell that he went through hell just by looking at him, it's his whole appearance. I'm not sure whether it's even possible to help him out of his shell. But I really want to try!".

Peter nodded. "I hope he does, too. I don't know what's going on in his mind. As long as he doesn't open up, I'm won't be able to help him, and I guess no one will. He built up solid walls around him and is not willing to let _anyone_ in right now. Nevertheless, he was very withdrawn tonight, even by his standards. I guess it was all a bit too much. Let's give him some time to rest and recover." He sighed and shook his head. "At some point he will _have_ to talk to me, whether he likes it or not, otherwise juvie will be the only option. Hughes' patience is not infinite, and we've got enough evidence without his testimony to lock him in until he will be 18, at least."

El looked at him. "I suppose after that he would be lost forever.", she said, a sad expression on her face. Peter simply nodded.

After they had finished, they went back into the living-room and found Neal sleeping peacefully on the sofa, his head resting on Satchmo's back. They looked at each other and smiled.

"He looks so very young, Peter, like the child that he is. And incredibly innocent.", El whispered.

Peter chuckled quietly. "I promise you he isn't, hon. But in moments like this I tend to believe he's not lost at all."

Neal started coughing again and El noticed his red cheeks and the sweat on his forehead. "Hey, Neal?", she said softly, but avoided touching him again. The boy just shifted a little but didn't wake up.

"Neal, buddy, time to go to bed", Peter tried a little louder. The kid slowly opened his eyes and then hastily sat up, looking around him bewildered, as if it took him some time to remember where he was.

Elizabeth smiled reassuringly. "It's all right, love, I'm sorry we had to wake you. But there's a cosy and warm bed upstairs waiting for you.".

"I can stay on the couch… it's absolutely fine", the boy said reluctantly.

"You must be kidding, of course you won't sleep on the sofa! Come on, follow me!", El said gently.

Neal nodded, his glassy eyes looked incredible tired and he had difficulties to climb up the stairs. El opened the door of the guest room and Peter could see the overwhelmed expression on Neal's face when he looked around.

"It's fantastic, Elizabeth. I… I don't know what to say… thank you so much!".

She smiled. "There's no need to thank us or apologize all the time, Neal. Try to relax! It's a pleasure for us. I'll go get some of Peter's old pyjamas."

Neal nodded again and irresolutly sat down on his bed. Peter did so, too, careful to leave a little space between them.

"Are you all right, kid? It was all a bit too much today, wasn't it?", he said softly.

Neal nodded, but didn't look up.

"You're save here, it's your opportunity to recover.", Peter added. Now the kid threw him a sideway glance.

"Do you do all these things just to make me talk?", he said wearily. Peter paused for a moment and then chose his words carefully.

"No, Neal. Of course I want you to talk to me, you know that, and I'm sure that you're fully aware that you will have to one day. But I also want you to be fine. You matter to me, you really do buddy."

"Could be just an ingenious strategy.", Neal replied quietly.

"Do you really believe that?"

Neal stayed quiet for a moment. "No.", he then simply admitted.

"Good. Because it isn't." Peter stood up slowly. "I'll go get your medicine, buddy."

"I'm fine Peter, I don't need anything.", Neal replied, sounding a little annoyed.

"You're not fine, kid, not … inside, and not physically either. Please stop telling me that, I'm not a fool. You'll take your medicine and you'll stop pretending that you're all right. Understand?", Peter spoke in a firm voice. The boy didn't look up but nodded again and Peter left the room for a few minutes.

When he came back, Neal was standing in the middle of the room with his way too big pyjama pants and a t-shirt on. The Agent couldn't help but laugh at the sight of it. Neal raised his brows.

"What's so funny, Peter?"

"Did you take a look at your shirt?", Peter chuckled. The kid looked down and now noticed the huge FBI label on his chest. "Now you're literally marked as our property!", Peter said in huge amusement.

Neal grinned awkwardly. "In your dreams!", he replied, his well-known cockiness coming through again.

Peter, still chuckling, handed him some pain killers and the medicine against his cold and fever and Neal swallowed it without any resistance.

"We need to change the bandages around your chest.", Peter said. "Is it okay if I help you?".

Neal shook his head. "Thanks, but no, I'll do that on my own." Peter nodded and handed him all he needed. "So…I expect you to be here tomorrow when I wake up, is that clear?"

Neal looked him straight in the eyes now. "I won't run Peter, I promise. I know I did it before, but I owe you one. Moreover you have this great electronic leash, I don't think I could get rid of it as fast as you were close by.", he lifted the pants again and looked at the device around his ankle with disgust.

Peter followed his gaze and nodded. He somehow feared that a tracking anklet wouldn't prevent a talented con from running, but he had to believe him right now. "You're right. I told you that I'll always find you and I'm someone who keeps his promises. So, better don't try it at all. Now… do you need anything else for the night?"

"No, I'm fine Peter. Thank you! I just need some sleep."

"Right, good night then, kid. See you tomorrow!", he said, feeling a little awkwardly again and left the room. After that, El was standing in the doorframe. "Sleep well, honey! Please try to feel at home.", she said with a smile.

"You too, and thanks again, El!", she could see that he tried his best to set on a happy expression, but he knew he failed. "See you tomorrow!", she added and then turned of the light and slowly closed the door.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey guys :), so this is the second half. I know the first one wasn't something special, but I think this one is. Even though it's still small progress. I decided to concentrate on the relationship between Peter and Neal, so El will remain a side character. And I promise that there will be more action soon. Thanks to everyone who commented or read my story, I really appreciate it. Enjoy! :)**

* * *

When Neal found himself finally alone in his room, he took a deep breath and lay down on the unbelievably comfortable mattress. He felt as if he was being rolled over by a truck and if he was honest, he had still trouble to believe that this actually wasn't a sophisticated strategy. No one, except Mozzie and maybe his mother, was ever really worried about his wellbeing. He had to be very careful not to reveal something he didn't want to, just because he felt so odd in this strange situation.

He curled up on the bed, but didn't dare to cover himself with the feather soft, dark blue and grey blanket. He knew had to stay awake to fulfil his duty first. The minutes passed by very slowly and he permanently had to change his position to prevent his eyes from closing. The pain killers and the fever made him dizzy and only the thought of Mozzie made sure that he kept on fighting his exhaustion. He heard the Burke's talking in the bathroom and then there was just silence.

The unusual sounds around him made him nervous and he waited for one and a half hour before he decided he couldn't hold on anymore. Neal stood up and crept towards his room's door without making the slightest noise. Moving in total silence was no trouble for him, he had a lot of practice in similar situations with his father. He opened the door very slowly and went into the hall.

Neal could see the open door of the Burke's bedroom and smiled sadly. Peter didn't trust him anymore that he did. And, of course, Neal proved just at the moment that the Agent was right, he actually couldn't trust him and should never do. Neal sneaked down the stairs and avoided the noisy spots. Even though he had been very tired for hours, he felt able to memorize all the creaking stages and reached the living-room without an accident.

He sat down on the kitchen table and pulled over El's mobile. Neal had noticed it on top of the table while they were eating. El left it here to charge it. He couldn't change that his call would appear on El's next bill. But Peter, if he even checked the bill, would only find the number of a local chines restaurant and hopefully wouldn't even become suspicious.

Neal turned the device on, but of course he needed El's pin code first. _Let's see…_ He knew that many people liked to keep it simple, even though they knew how dangerous this could be. Neal tried Peter's and El's date of birth (of course he knew exactly when both of them were born), but no, access denied. Then he had only one last try left, before the mobile wouldn't allow any more. Maybe El just kept the pin code which she got after buying the phone. In this case he would never find out the correct one just by trying. Without even thinking about it, he typed in 1234 and couldn't believe it when, finally, the home screen appeared. _Far too easy, El!_ he thought and sighed in relieve.

He dialled the emergency number. "Red Dragon restaurant, how may I help you?", someone asked on the other end.

"I'd like to order something. Number 42b without peppers and garlic, please.", he said without any hesitation. Keller told him to do so if he had to get in touch with him, but only if absolutely necessary. And, of course, he had to use 42, the answer to everything. _As if he himself would be omniscient,_ Neal thought and rolled his eyes.

"All right…we're very busy right now. Please call back in about 15 Minutes and repeat your order. Is that possible?", the man answered.

"All right!", Neal replied and hung up. He rubbed his eyes and felt the deep wish to lay down and just sleep with his head on the table. But he had to stay awake. So he decided to stand up and walk around while he was waiting. He reluctantly went over to the opposite wall and looked at the pictures of El, Peter, Satchmo, friends and family. They were all smiling, it appeared so unbelievable perfect and he felt like an intruder again. He didn't belong here, he would always remain a troublemaker and he didn't want to destroy any part of the Burke's life. He again felt the urge to grab his shoes and coat and just run as fast as he could, but he knew that this wasn't possible.

He turned away from the pictures and felt a deep heaviness in himself. Would he ever belong anywhere? He doubted it. But with Mozzie he had come as closely as possible to the feeling of a real family. He headed back to the kitchen table. The 15 Minutes were over, so he dialled the well-known number again.

"What the hell are you doing out there, bloody bastard?", Keller shouted a split second later and Neal was startled by the sudden outburst.

"I… it wasn't my fault. I did as you say, and I got the key card. But this Agent insisted to take me to the hospital. I told him I didn't….", Neal tried to defend himself as quietly as possible. He felt slightly anxious, that Keller's shouting would be hearable upstairs.

"You fuckin son of a bitch, just stop talking, I'm not interested in any explanations of your incompetent behaviour. What did I think to send a stupid child? Where are you know? Are you able to fulfil your duties or can I finally get rid of the ballast in my cell down there?", he bellowed.

Neal felt a shiver running down his spine. He wouldn't tell Keller where he was, simply to protect them.

"I'll work something out. I'll have access to the headquarter soon, I promise. Is your contact man still available?", he asked tightly.

"Of course he is, he's not an unreliable kid."

"All right, I'll get in touch when I'm ready. Under one condition. I … I want to talk to Mozzie. I want to make sure that he's … he's still alive.", he said, his voice a lot shakier than he intended it to be.

"Do you really think that you're in any position to ask for something?", Keller replied coldly.

"Actually I_ do_ think so, Keller. Even though it didn't work out exactly like you planned this stupid robbery, you still need me. Or would you like to do it yourself? To break into the FBI headquarter? I'm pretty sure that you won't find someone who would actually be so stupid. Am I right?", the anger was boiling inside him and slowly replaced his exhaustion.

Keller paused for a moment, probably to weigh his possibilities and then answered in disgust: "All right. Hurry up and find a way to get this done. Next time you call I'll make sure your little friend will be with me. But I warn you. Even though I need this fuckin painting, my patience isn't endless. I'll kill him without any hesitation. Understand?".

Neal clenched his fists. "Yes. But I promise you would regret doing that, I'll make life hell for you.", he said, his voice full of the hatred he felt right now.

Keller laughed contemptuously. "_Now_ I'm afraid. Don't overestimate your own possibilities, kid.", he answered and hung up without any prior warning.

Neal stared at the phone in his hand and had difficulties to get along with his feelings. He felt as if he could explode any minute, helpless and exhausted, but also full of adrenaline. The loneliness hit him badly. It was too much to handle, simply too much. But he had to.

He deleted the dialled number and put the phone back exactly where it was. Then he slowly stood up and headed towards his room. When he entered it, he could see something moving right next to his bed and immediately froze. His heart was pounding quickly in his chest and he felt the urge to run again. But then he recognized the wagging tail and the fluffy head and allowed himself to relax. It was just Satchmo waiting for him to come back. He knelt next to the dog and gently stroke his soft fur.

"Hey my friend, you really startled me, did you know that?", he whispered.

Satchmo simply gave him a kiss and then lay down again, obviously satisfied, only a few inches away from the bed. Neal smiled. So at least he had some company for tonight. He crawled under the blanket and rested his head on the pillow. Even though he could still feel the anger inside him, he had to admit that he enjoyed the feeling of the soft bed linen and the upcoming warmth. As soon as he had found a comfortable position, he felt his tension ease and finally fell asleep.

* * *

Peter woke up with a gasp and sat upright in bed. At first he didn't know why, usually he never had any trouble sleeping through. A look out of the window told him, that it was still deep in the night. He looked around in confusion and then noticed a noise coming from the guest's room. He turned left, but El was still sleeping soundly. He quickly stood up and slinked out of the room and silently shut the door behind him.

The noises became louder and he could hear a whimper now. "No, don't do that… nooo, please, don't… I'll make you regret…". Neal's door was half open and Peter carefully opened it without any sound. The first thing he could see was Satchmo, who lay right next to Neal on his bed and howled softly, but Neal didn't seem to recognize it. The boy was covered in sweat, the strands of his brown, wavy hair stuck to his face and his cheeks were scarlet. The crumpled blanket was at the foot of the bed and Neal tossed around in his sleep and moaned and wailed while doing so. Peter reluctantly came closer. He could see tears running down the boy's face now.

"Mozzie… no… please don't, please…", he pleaded in great despair.

"Neal…", Peter said softly, but the boy didn't react and went on tossing around. Peter sat down on the edge of the bed. Satchmo looked at him, visibly confused. Peter stroke his soft fur. "It's all right, boy. He'll be better soon.", he said reassuringly and Satchmo seemed facilitated and jumped off the bed and left the room. Peter turned back to the boy next to him, who was still tossing around.

"Neal, buddy, you have to wake up, it's just a dream!", he tried once more, but again without any success. He hesitated for a moment, but then gently put his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Neal!", he tried, a little louder now. Neal started up and looked around, eyes wide, bewildered.

"No, go away…", he yelled and frantically tried to free himself from Peter's hand. The kid tried to get as far away from Peter as possible and protected his head with his hands. Peter slowly stood up and backed away a little, to give Neal some space.

"It's all right, kid, you're save here. I won't hurt you. Calm down, everything will be ok!", he said soothingly and could literally feel the boy's pain himself. He felt his heart racing. Neal breathed heavily and was coughing again. He stared at him, terrified. Peter could see how the boy slowly regained full consciousness. He rubbed his hair nervously, wiped away his tears and looked down embarrassed.

"I'm sorry. I really am, Peter.", he said softly and warily moved from its corner back to the middle of the bed.

"May I?", the Agent replied and pointed to the edge of his bed. Neal hesitated a little, then nodded reluctantly, but still didn't look up. Peter made an effort to move very slowly and sat down again, careful to leave enough space between the two of them. They both remained quiet for a few minutes.

"Are you feeling better, buddy?", Peter said gently. Neal nodded.

"I really didn't mean to wake you. I…I'll take care that it won't happen again.", he gave him an anxious sidelong glance.

"No... I mean a nightmare isn't your fault, kid. But you scared me!"

"I'm sorry. You did, too.", the boy said again, very subdued. "I'm all right, Peter. Go back to sleep, please!"

Peter didn't go into it. "Neal, who's Mozzie?", he said thoughtfully.

Neal's eyes widened again and Peter could see pure fear and shock in his expression, before the boy was able to put on his mask again. Someone had trained this boy well.

"Um, who?", he answered innocently.

"You called for him in your sleep."

"Dunno. Come on, Peter…Mozzie isn't even a proper name, don't you think? You must have misunderstood.", he looked openly at him with his bright blue, still tired looking eyes. But Peter felt sure that he didn't misunderstand. Neal coughed again, held his chest and a hint of pain crossed his face for a split second.

"Did you change your bandages?", Peter asked worriedly.

Now the kid avoided his gaze again. "Yes, um Peter…I'm all right, just go back to sleep, I won't bother you anymore."

Peter looked at the untouched bandages on the shelf next to the bed and then shifted his gaze back to Neal. He could see how uneasy the kid felt in his company.

"Neal…, you know that I would never hurt you, don't you?", he asked softly. Neal nodded reluctantly but didn't look up.

"Good. I know it's a difficult situation for you. There's a lot for you to cope with right now and I bet the strange environment and the FBI Agent so close by don't really help, but you can trust me. I really want to help you, as best as I can. As long as you're in my custody I'll protect you and no one will be able to hurt you, kid. I promise!", Peter said in a firm voice.

Neal looked up for a short moment, a deep sadness in his eyes and then nodded again.

"So… how about I'll help you with your bandages? Just help, I won't ask or say anything."

The boy didn't react, and Peter could literally feel the tension in the boy's body. He sighed and reluctantly stood up.

"All right. I'll go get some more pain killers instead then. I'll be right back!", he turned and headed towards the door.

"Peter…wait!", Neal hesitantly said, barely audibly. "It's… it's ok. I mean… you can help me, if you really want to."

The Agent smiled. He sat down again and grabbed the bandages and the ointment on the shelf next to the bed and waited. Neal glanced at him uncertainly.

"I really don't want to talk about it."

"I know and I respect that.", Peter replied calmly.

The kid hesitantly took of his shirt, he could barely raise his arms and always kept an eye on Peter.

"May I?", the Agent asked gently and pointed to the old bandages around Neal's chest. The kid slowly nodded and Peter started to remove them as carefully as possible. Neal stiffened and stopped breathing. Peter could feel his body trembling.

He had to hide how terrified he felt when he was finally able to take a look at the kid's bare chest and back. It looked like a cruel mosaic out of scars and bruises. He had never seen anything similar and could feel the anger rising inside him while thinking about the human beings that were responsible for torturing the boy like that. Neal looked down at the blanket stoically and didn't move at all. Peter, as promised, didn't say anything and took the ointment.

"Is it all right if I touch you know?", he asked quietly. Neal nodded again. Peter took the ointment.

"So...hands up, please. I don't think I need to tell you to freeze right now, right?", he joked to calm the boy down a little. Neal smiled tensly and raised his arms.

Peter gently started to apply the ointment on the boy's back. At first Neal winced a little, closed his eyes and obviously struggled to tolerate the touches. Peter could feel every bone and every scar and bump under his fingers. _How could this kid even survive all these horrible years_? Peter asked himself terrified.

"You were right.", Neal suddenly broke the silence, his eyes still closed.

"With what?", Peter asked confused by the sudden change of subject.

"I do know why I've sent all these postcards and presents." Neal paused for a few seconds. "I think I… I sometimes imagined to be part of a proper family. I watched you, your wife and Satchmo and you looked so happy, like... I always thought a real family would look like. And it felt nice to have someone to write and to talk to, as if we actually were family or friends or whatever and I didn't feel so alone while pretending… You know what, just forget it, it's stupid."

Peter sensed a huge lump in his throat and felt deeply touched. Neal's eyes shot open and Peter immediately knew that the special moment was over now. The kid grabbed the bandages.

"I can do this on my own now, thank you very much.", he said and avoided Peter's gaze again.

The Agent nodded and reluctantly stood up. "It's not stupid, buddy. I promised to be there for you, just like family or friends would do and as I told you, I keep my promises. Always!", he said firmly.

Neal looked up and met his gaze. "You shouldn't. I'm not worth it, Peter. I really appreciate everything you have done for me so far, but I'm nothing more but trouble."

Peter shook his head. "You're not, don't ever say that again. You've made wrong decisions and you obviously haven't had reliable grown ups around you. But you're not a bad person, Neal! Far from it."

Neal stared at the blanket again and Peter didn't know whether his words really reached him. "Let's talk tomorrow. Try to get some sleep. We'll do this together, everything will be fine. Understand?", Peter wasn't so certain about that, but he was willing to try his best.

Neal nodded reluctantly and Peter said good night again, turned off the light and closed the door. He leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. _What did you get into here, Peter?_


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey guys :), thanks again for reading and your comments, they mean a lot to me! I had to split the next chapter again, so the ending is a bit odd this time. But it took too much time. The second half will be ready soon. And I promise there'll be more action then. Have fun!**

* * *

Peter was sitting at the kitchen table, watching El how she prepared some pancakes for their breakfast. He didn't talk about the incident during the night, he somehow wanted to protect his wife and didn't think she necessarily had to know.

"You sure that you two will get along today? I'll probably be back late tonight. The exhibition starts next weekend and there's still a lot to prepare." El had been commissioned by a small museum to design the grand opening of a new art exhibition.

"Of course, hon. I mean, I'm a Special Agent, I should be able to handle a sick teenager, don't you think?", he joked half-heartedly.

She turned a raised her eyebrows. "First of all, I don't think handling teenagers or kids in general is one of your strongest abilities. And I suppose we do both agree he isn't really what you would call a "normal teenager, don't we?".

Peter sighted. "You're right. But I'll try my best."

She sat down across the table. "Don't push him too much, Peter. Try to be gentle, forget your FBI-habits from time to time.", she said softly.

He nodded. "I'll try to. I'm eager to get to know more about his past. Not only the criminal parts of it, although I guess these are what Hughes and the whole FBI are most interested in, but also who abused him, where he came from. What about his family? I can't believe that there's no one …". He abruptly stopped when he noticed footsteps on the stairs. They both looked expectantly through the open kitchen door and could see Neal coming in reluctantly, barefoot and still in his pyjamas. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked pale, but a little less tensed. His brown mob of hair stuck out in all possible directions.

He was standing in the bright morning light, which was shining through the kitchen windows and looked even thinner and younger in the far too big clothes than he did yesterday. The kid stopped in the door frame, obviously uncertain how to behave.

El smiled warmly at him. "Come in, love. Good morning! Did you sleep well?"

Neal glanced in Peter's direction for a moment and then nodded quickly. He hesitantly entered the room and sat down as far away from Peter as possible.

"Yes, thank you very much Elizabeth. I hope you did, too?"

"Thanks, honey, I indeed did. What would you like to drink? Coffee, tea or something cold like apple juice or water?", she asked him gently.

"Tea would be nice, thank you very much.", he replied quietly.

"And are pancakes all right? I didn't know what you like."

"Of course they are. Please don't make a fuss, there really is no need to. I'm not a picky eater at all and pancakes are perfect. I haven't had a proper breakfast for ages. Thanks again! But I have to admit that I don't have much of an appetite.", he revealed and offered a tired smile himself.

El didn't listen, shook her head and served him a cup of tea and a plate with three pancakes on it.

"You have to eat, Neal. You still look pale and sick and you're too thin, love. Your body needs help to recover. No resist talk, please!"

He looked at his plate. "I'll try my best!", he said chuckling and hesitantly started eating.

El put her mug into the sink and turned to leave. "I'm afraid I have to go now. Peter will stay with you today. I'll be back in the evening."

Peter noticed a hint of fear in the boy's face and a quick glance in his direction.

"We'll get along, won't we?", he said reassuringly. Neal nodded, looking unconvinced.

Peter stood up and kissed his wife on her forehead. "Have a nice day, hon."

But before El could leave the room, the kid raised his voice. "Elizabeth, wait please… I just wanted to apologize for my bad behaviour yesterday. I didn't mean to be rude or grumpy, it's just… it's simply a lot going on right now and I felt a bit overwhelmed. I really appreciate what you're doing for me. I mean… the two of you!", he said in a flat voice and didn't look up while talking.

El looked touched. "You don't have to apologize, love. Of course you were overwhelmed. Who wouldn't be in your situation? And by the way, your manners are far better than the ones I would usually expect of a teenager your age, even in your grumpy mode!", she said and smiled again. "Please don't worry love, everything is all right. But I really have to go now! I see you both in the evening! Have a nice day and try to rest as much as you can, Neal." She said and turned to leave the house.

* * *

After she had left, a heavy silence spread in the room. Neal stopped eating, but still concentrated on his plate. He was certainly feeling uneasy in Peter's company again.

"Neal…", he began. "I promised I wouldn't talk about…what I saw last night, and I won't.", he paused for a second. "Try to relax a little, kid. Use this opportunity to rest and recover, you're safe here. No one will harm you and there's nothing to worry about at the moment."

Neal slowly raised his gaze and looked at him. "I know. I'll try.", he simply replied quietly.

Peter nodded. "Try to eat a bit more. How about some tv afterwards? You can lay down on the couch, with another cup of tea maybe, while I'll go through some files.", he tried to sound as encouraging as possible.

Now it was Neal's turn to nod, even though it wasn't really convincing. They both sat in silence for a few more minutes. Then Neal looked up again and hesitantly asked: "What are these files about?"

Peter felt surprised by his sudden interest. "Expensive wines. Someone broke into a wealthy landowner's estate and exchanged some of the most expensive ones for perfect counterfeits. We have to find out how he did that and first of all which ones aren't the real ones. It's not really our usual business, but the landowner is a friend of the mayor and… well, never mind. Are you looking for new working possibilities?", he smiled at Neal.

The boy smiled back nervously and shook his head. "Just so. Did you check the label's paper? They sometimes use old books to do it right, but it's difficult to find pieces of paper that are exactly from the right time and place and it's difficult to forge something without a proper template. They use certain methods to age the paper artificially, which are often easy to identify. But I suppose you're aware of the techniques. And did you know that if they are older than 1949, I mean manufactured before the Manhattan Project, there shouldn't be any Cesium-137 inside the bottles?" Neal was clearly in his element and looked much more alive now, his bright blue eyes were sparkling.

Peter laughed out loud. "You obviously know a lot about the topic. I don't assume it's worth asking where from?", he said chuckling.

Neal shook his head, the well-known Caffrey-Smile on his face now. Peter felt the tension in the room decreasing. "I tell you what. How about you finish eating and after that you sit down on the sofa with a nice warm blanket and I'll join you and we both take a look at these files? I'd really appreciate your help."

Neal paused for a moment, but then nodded. He took a few more bites and then they headed towards the living-room. They spent all morning together on the sofa, Satchmo to their feet's. At first Neal behaved very cautious, but soon relaxed and Peter made sure that there was always enough space between the two of them. Neal knew a lot and Peter could hardly keep up with writing everything down. It was almost noon when Peter leaned back and closed the file.

"Pretty impressive, kid.", he had to admit. Neal pulled up the corner of his mouth and looked at him expectantly. Peter met his gaze. "Where did you learn all of this?"

The kid shrugged, a neutral expression in his face. He really made a good con when he was in control. "Here and there. I've a good grasp, you know.", he answered undetermined.

But Peter wasn't ready to give up yet. "What about your parents? Were they part of your businesses?"

The Agent could see how the boy tensed again. He clenched both fists and concentrated on his lap again for a few seconds. Then, to Peter's surprise, he replied stiffly.

"Yes, kind of."

Peter felt breathless and anxious to say something wrong now. "Both of them?", he asked softly.

Neal shook his head. "Just… just my dad I suppose.", he answered hesitantly.

"What about your mum?" Neal paused again and Peter could see how difficult answering was for the kid.

"Can't remember properly. She left me when I was little. Said she would come back to get me… but she didn't. And then she died and was gone forever. End of story. Are you satisfied now?", he blurted out, still didn't look up and breathing heavily.

Peter didn't know what to say. Without thinking he raised his hand and put it on the boy's shoulder. Neal was startled and jumped up, terrified. He looked at Peter bewildered, coughing again, then slowly sat down again next to him, trying to regain his composure, a mixture of desperation and exhaustion in his face.

"I'm… I'm sorry. I just… I can't control it.", he quietly admitted and covered his face in his hands.

"You don't have to be sorry, kid. It's not your fault. Your abuser should be sorry. And he will be if I'll ever find him.", Peter groaned.

Neal leaned back warily, still looking down. "I told you I don't want to talk about it."

"I know, and I promised. I won't push you… for now. But if you'll ever feel ready to talk, please let me know."

The kid nodded slightly and ran his fingers through his hair. Peter could see a hint of pain again. "You need your medication, kid. And after that I suggest a nap upstairs, all right?". Neal nodded again.

"May I help you with your back again?", Peter asked gently.

"No, I can do it. But…thanks!", the boy quickly replied.

* * *

When Neal went upstairs, he couldn't believe what he'd just told Peter. He didn't know _why_ he did it. He felt somehow attached to the Agent, but he knew he couldn't let it happen. He had to betray him in the end, there wasn't another possibility and becoming close wouldn't help to let that happen. Furthermore, he wasn't even sure of all this simply was part of a strategy to make him talk. Peter would always be an FBI-Agent and surely couldn't change that, so he had to keep his cover up, no matter what.

After all this mess, in his new life with Mozzie, he wouldn't need a Federal Agent who knew too much. By now he doubted Peter would ever leave him alone anyway. He sat down on his bed and struggled not to cry. He wished he could just leave the house and start all over again, but he knew it wouldn't work like that. With a huge sight he tried to calm down a little, lay down and curled up tightly, even though his rips felt like fire in his chest. But the pain somehow reassured him, he felt more alive and able to control his surroundings. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the pain. Within minutes he was fast asleep.

* * *

After two hours, Neal came back down, in his shabby clothes now, and looked much better. He even smiled a little.

"Hey buddy, do you feel better? You definitely look like that.

"Yeah, thanks, I'm fine.", he replied and noticed the new files on the living-room table. "So… what about these files? What is this case about? May I have a look?", he said, his bright blue eyes glittering.

Peter grinned. "You must have found a taste for it!", he teased him. Neal shrugged, still smiling. So, they both spent another two hours together on the sofa with a bunch of files and Peter felt once more impressed. _How could a kid of just fifteen know so much about all this stuff?_

He was horrified to confront Neal with this and other questions, but he knew the time would come. When Peter felt it was enough for the day, he closed the latest file and turned on the TV. They had a short discussion about what to watch, because Neal came out as a football and sports in general hater, but convinced him – using his I'm-the-Agent-I-can-determine"- joker, so they both sat and watched the game, provided with a hot tea for Neal and a beer for Peter.

At first, Neal grumbled periodically how stupid this and that was, but soon went quiet and Peter could see his eye lids closing gradually. After a little while, he fell asleep and slowly slid to the side, so that his head was suddenly resting on Peter's shoulder.

He didn't dare to move and looked down at Neal. The kid looked so relaxed and peaceful, the tension almost disappeared. A teenager full of contradictions. They sat in silence for about half an hour like that, when Peter could finally hear the front door.

"I'm back, boys.", El shouted and entered the living room. She immediately fell silent when she saw Peter holding his forefinger to his lips and Neal resting on his shoulder, her expression full joy.

She kissed Peter's hair and whispered in his ear: "Hey hon. That's so sweet. I'll prepare dinner for the three of us."

Peter smiled and nodded slightly, so that the kid wouldn't wake up. It took another half an hour before Neal finally moved during a touch down of his team, which made a lot of noise in the TV. He was startled again and looked around in confusion, backing away from Peter.

"Please don't say your sorry again!", Peter chuckled. "It's all right, I liked it to be your pillow!".

Neal slowly relaxed and grinned sheepishly. "I bet you haven't had the honour of a criminal sleeping on your shoulder before, have you?", he asked mischievously.

Peter laughed again. After that, they joined El in the kitchen and spent a nice dinner together. Neal ate well and thanked El several times for cooking. When they had finished the main dish, El stood up and took away the plates.

"You two wait here for a minute, I have a little something as a dessert especially for Neal.".

Peter could see the confused expression on Neal's face. He didn't know what his wife was talking about, either. She left the room and came back a few minutes later. She turned of the light, a cake with 15 candles in her hand, singing "Happy birthday". Peter smiled, full of affection for his precious wife. He had told her, that Neal hadn't have a proper birthday and of course she couldn't ignore that.

But when he looked away from her and concentrated on Neal, he could see something was wrong. The boy didn't move at all and looked at the cake, horrified. Peter could see his hands trembling again. When El reached the table, she could see the horror in his face too and stopped singing.

Neal suddenly stood up and left the table mechanically. He headed out of the kitchen and they could hear the front door slap.

"What did I do? What is this about?", El said, close to tears.

Peter shook his head. "Don't worry hon, it wasn't your fault.", he hastily said and followed Neal out.


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey guys! :) I am so sorry again, it took such a long time. I think I had to figure out how to go on first in detail, but I know now. Thanks again for your comments, they mean so much to me. And I thank all the others for reading my stuff! :) I promise it won't take such a long time anymore.**

* * *

It was raining outside. Not just a drizzle, but a steady stream of water. In less than a minute Peter was soaking wet and started to freeze while running after the boy.

_What the hell is he doing_? he asked himself and concentrated on the small shape in front of him. He could barely see Neal through the pouring rain and _man_, this kid was fast. A lot of practice, Peter assumed.

"Neal, stop running!", he shouted out more than once. The kid didn't react and continued running as if the devil was after him. _Well, maybe that's the case, from his point of view! _he chuckled dryly.

"Come on, buddy. Stop it now!", he tried once more, but again the kid didn't even seem to notice.

Peter wheezed now and could hardly keep up. He turned a corner and suddenly Neal was nowhere to be seen. _Fucking hell_, this couldn't be true. Peter looked around frantically but couldn't find him. Thoughts were swirling through his head. So, the boy finally took his chance! But why now? What did they do to scare him like that?

"Neal!", he shouted as loudly as he could, still panting. "Come out, buddy. It's all right, we'll sort it out." The street lay empty in front of him, there wasn't a single movement.

"Shit, Neal. This isn't funny. It's not a game. You can't just run whenever it gets difficult. Please, don't do that to me. Please!", he begged. To his left, a woman peeked curiously out of her window. Peter took out his badge and showed it in her direction. He didn't want her to call the police, not yet. As soon as she saw it, her face disappeared.

Peter closed his eyes and sighed. He slowly followed the street and looked around, when his mobile began ringing. Peter rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Special Agent Burke, who's speaking?", he answered it brusquely.

"Good evening Agent Burke. I'm in charge of the offender's monitoring tonight and I have to inform you, that Mr. Neal Caffrey just left his radius.", a young voice answered. Peter's eyes widened. The tracking anklet, of course! He didn't even think about it. He had set a very small radius for the night and evening hours.

"Um, yes. Can you tell me where he is right now? It… may be a mistake.", he replied hesitantly.

"May be?", the man asked questioningly.

"Just tell me where he is!", Peter bellowed.

"All right, Sir ... of course I can tell you. He's not moving right now. I suppose he's in some kind of a backyard. Westwood Lane 451b. May I call backup?"

That was close by, so he didn't run anymore. "No! Um, I mean I can manage that myself. I…", Peter started, but was interrupted by the young Agent.

"Wait, he's moving now. He's walking towards…", he started, but now it was Peter's turn to interrupt him. He could see Neal's narrow shape heading slowly in his direction.

"It's all right. He's with me now. It was just a misunderstanding. No need to inform someone, do you understand?", he said sharply. "Well, that's ok, I suppose. Have a nice evening!", the Agent replied confused, and Peter cut the call without another word.

Neal stopped two meters in front of him, his head down, concentrating on the ground. Raindrops were falling from his brown curls and he was shivering. Peter stared at him, in a mixture of anger and worry. Neal didn't move, he just waited for something to happen.

Peter slowly approached him. "Are you all right?", Peter asked quietly. Neal nodded, refused to look at him. Peter took off his jacket and put it carefully around Neal's shoulders, as not to scare him.

"Let's go home, buddy.", Peter sighed. The kid nodded again and they both began walking side by side.

"I'm so sorry.", Neal mumbled, barely notable.

"I know, Neal, I know. But that simply isn't enough sometimes. We've got to talk. I think we both need a hot shower and dry clothes first, but after that we'll have a chat. It's not working like that.", he stated and then paused for a moment. "But… I'm glad you came back after all."

Neal looked very ashamed and pointed on the red light of his tracking ankle. "What about that thing?"

"I took care of it. Don't worry. But please, Caffrey, please don't do it again. Someday I won't be able to help you anymore."

Neal didn't answer. Of course he wouldn't promise, not if he was honest.

* * *

When they reached home, El was standing in the doorframe.

"Oh, thank god!", she shouted out.

They both entered the warm and cosy hallway, producing little water puddles on the floor. Neal looked miserably. He still didn't dare to look up.

"I'm a horrible person, Elizabeth. I'm so sorry, I really am. You didn't deserve this… me.", he brought out softly.

El's eyes were full of pity and gentleness. "No, Neal. You're not a horrible person. Please don't ever say or even think that again. You just went through a lot and cannot cope with it right now. But that doesn't make you a bad person. It would help if you could express your feelings from time to time though, instead of running, honey.", she said kindly.

She reached out to gently touch his cheek and surprisingly Neal didn't wince but accepted her touch. He closed his eyes for a second.

"Oh my, Neal, you're ice cold! That's what you need in your condition… You two go upstairs, while I'll prepare some tea and cookies."

* * *

Neal was staring at his pale reflection in the bathroom's mirror.

_What was wrong with him?_ He actually WAS a bad person, he felt sure about that. He couldn't cope with all the kindness in this house, especially not with the planned betrayal in his mind. He didn't deserve this, at all and didn't know how to behave. If it wasn't for Mozzie, he would have run for good. But he couldn't.

In his former life, he had to be tough and unapproachable. What happened to his confident self? He sighed heavily, feeling his throat aching badly and turned to enter the shower. He enjoyed the hot water pattering on his body, bringing his senses back to life. His aching body started losing its tension and he somehow knew what he had to do now.

The little break in heaven was over. He had to finish his job as soon as possible. After that, he would hopefully disappear and the Burke's could go on with their perfect little life, without a teenage troublemaker around them.

_Why did the thought of leaving and never coming back hurt so much?_ Neal always thought about himself as a lonely warrior, the only thing he has had in mind for years was leaving his father and living on his own, maybe with Mozzie as a companion. So, he shouldn't care at all about the Burke's. But… he had to admit that he did.

_Fucking hell_. Neal frantically shook his head. _Concentrate Neal, focus on what __**really**__ matters. _Mozzie had been part of his life for years and he took care of Neal, he could always count on him. He had no choice at all, and he knew that. After all he felt pretty sure that he could never fully trust anyone else anyway and what would his life be with the Burke's? They surely wouldn't keep him for long, especially if he wouldn't cope.

And then? Juvie, a foster family, a group home? _No, thanks. _He went through hell with his father, but his experiences with his latest foster family weren't any better. The Burke's wouldn't change anything on the long run. Even in his misery, he could feel his strength coming back. It was all that he needed, a reminder of what mattered most in his life, always did. But he certainly had to give Peter a little something, to get what he wanted, no, what he **_needed_**. And he doubted that he would be able to lie, not in this case.

He felt a lot better after the shower and slipped in the fresh clothes Peter gave him.

_Oh great, another giant grey FBI-Hoody!_ he snorted in disgust. Smart as Peter was, he had a terrible fashion taste. But he could smell a faint reminder of Peter's aftershave, which made him feel somehow safe and secure in this grey tent and he allowed himself to enjoy the nice feeling for just a moment and closed his eyes.

Neal leaned on the bathroom wall and felt unable to move. He wished he could just disappear into his room, to sleep for hours, but he knew that wouldn't be possible. He finally took a deep breath and headed down again to face the man he had to con as best as he could now.

* * *

Peter was sitting on the sofa next to El, both were waiting for Neal to join them.

"Did he say what made him run?", his wife asked quietly.

"No. He didn't talk much. But now he has to. This obviously isn't working, we don't even now how to treat him if he doesn't manage to express his feelings. So I'll make him talk now. I have to, it's the best I can do for all of us.", Peter stated firmly.

El sighed. "I see your point, Peter. But he's a traumatized kid, you have to be gentle and careful. Otherwise we don't know where this will lead us, you're maybe opening pandora's box. And we're not experts. He needs love and sympathy, but also professional help. You saw his tortured body and his behaviour, this isn't something that he's able to control right now. Not even when you're trying to force him." Before Peter had the chance to answer, they both turned around after a cracking noise and saw Neal standing in the doorframe, staring at them.

He looked hilarious and childlike in Peter's gigantic hoodie and Peter felt the sudden urge to laugh at the sight of him but could stop himself in time.

"Come on in, buddy!", he encouraged the boy who reluctantly obeyed and headed towards the armchair opposite the sofa. There was an awkward silence for a few moments.

Then Neal cleared his throat and met their gazes. "I… appreciate your very well intentions, Elizabeth. But Peter is right. I can't behave like I did. He has every right to demand cooperation and I'll try my best. I'll start talking and help as best as I can, even though I don't think that my personal past is of any importance. I don't need any help with these topics. What happened in the past can't be changed and I already told Peter that I'm not willing to talk about that. Please, don't worry. After I did what I can, I won't bother you two anymore."

During his little speech, El started to nervously tap with her hands on her knees and shook her head afterwards. "No, Neal. You're right, you can't change your past and we are not able to do that either. But you can learn to cope. And running and masking your feelings won't help long-term. And stop talking as if you were a burden to us. We both like you and want to help you and that won't be possible if you're not willing to open up. This is a very important time in your life, please seize the opportunity."

Neal lowered his gaze again and stared at his hands. "I can't, Elizabeth. As you said, you would open pandora's box and I tell you that's nothing you would like to experience. Just… leave me alone with this. I… I beg you. It's best for all of us."

Peter could see the helplessness in El's face. She had tears in her eyes. "All right… I won't force you, I never could. But… would you do me one favour?", she asked in a husky voice.

Neal looked up and nodded hesitantly after a few seconds.

"What made you run after I came in with the cake?", she asked quietly, after clearing her throat.

Neal paused and looked her in the eyes. He weighed his possibilities and then decided that she deserved this little bit of truth. "My mum… she… she left me for a while and…. came back for my birthday, with a similar cake. I was so happy to have her back and I had one last happy day for a very long time. But then… something happened, and she left again. The rest of the cake landed on the floor. And my mum… she passed away a few days later. I never had a cake after that… for my birthday I mean. I'm sorry Elizabeth, I freaked out. It felt like a shadow of that day somehow.", he replied reluctantly, but with a steady voice.

He left El speechless, a single tear was rolling down her cheek and she hurried to wipe it off with the back of her hand. She stood up and knelt down in front of the boy, who backed away a bit. She moved slowly and gently took his hand in hers. Neal managed to let it happen, even though Peter could see him lightly stiffening again.

"Please look at me, Neal.", she said softly. The boy hesitated for a moment, but then looked her in the eyes. "I'm so sorry. For everything you had to go through. You deserve better, you really do. And I want you to recognize that all of that wasn't your fault. The way you behave is the consequence of the way other people treated you in the past. I accept that you deny talking about it right now and appreciate what you were able to reveal what you did. But I really hope that you'll feel save enough one day to finally trust us and then we'll be with you to listen. Until then, please be gentle with yourself. Don't blame you for things you couldn't control or change!".

Now Neal's eyes were filled with tears and he was slightly trembling. He shook his head and released his hands out of her grip. He stayed calm and tensed. El stood up, now shaking herself. "I'll leave you two alone now to prepare some tea and cookies to raise the mood a little bit. But please, honey, think about my words. We're both here to help you." Neal still remained silent but looked up now and offered her a weak smile, full of masked desperation.

* * *

After she had left, Peter stared at the boy in his far to big hoodie. He smiled encouragingly.

"We'll sort this out, kid. I promise. But I'm glad you decided to finally talk to me."

Neal meat his eyes with a serious expression. "I'll confess Peter, I'll be as honest with you as possible."

Peter nodded and smiled at him. "That's nice to hear, but it can wait until tomorrow. And first of all we should go shopping, don't you think?"

Neal looked at him in confusion.

"Well, if you prefer to wear my fashionable clothes, that's fine.", Peter said chuckling.

"Um, nothing against your taste, but I'm not really a big fan of FBI hoodies which label me as your property.", Neal replied cheekily. "But, um, Peter. I don't have any money with me."

Peter chuckled again. "I'm absolutely sure you could work something out." Neal shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "Don't worry, kid, that's not a problem!"

Neal managed a small grin and again Peter could see the tension decrease a little bit.

"After that we'll have a talk, is that all right?", Peter seriously added.

"In your office?", Neal asked, a little hastily.

"Let's see if you feel all right tomorrow. I'd prefer to do it properly in a room with some devices to record your statement and a few witnesses. But if you're not feeling well enough, we could begin with it here. Don't worry!", Peter said gently and noticed the relieved expression on the kids face.

When his wife came back with the tray full of her delicious home-made cookies and steaming pods of tea, Peter and Neal were laughing after a stupid joke Peter told and she could see that everything went well. They spent the next couple of hours debating over the tv program. While Peter insisted to watch a football match, Neal preferred an animal documentation. In the end they decided to equally split the time, but the kid couldn't stop himself from moaning, until Peter finally gave in and they ended up watching the whole documentation. Even Peter had to admit, that he enjoyed it.

From time to time his gaze went on the boy. He couldn't believe how soon he felt such an amount of affection for the boy. How could that happen? He was never really interested in children, that had always been El's part. But somehow this boy found a way in his heart and he didn't know how to deal with it, especially as he had to treat him like a normal suspect in the office. While watching Neal, Peter felt relieved to see him laughing and joking around. But he also noticed a hint of sadness and guiltiness whenever he looked in Peter's direction. Would he ever get to know what was going on in the boy's mind?

* * *

Even though Neal enjoyed the time with the Burke's he felt exhausted when he could finally enter his bedroom. He still felt sick and the whole happy-family-situation down there didn't help much. How could anyone even with a touch of conscience con such nice people?

His head felt like a hot balloon now, but he didn't allow himself to rest, because he knew he would immediately fall asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. So he sat down in front of the small desk and took out some paper and a pencil and started drawing while listening to the fading noises outside his room.

At first, Satchmo appeared on his paper, followed by Elizabeth and Peter, sitting together on the sofa, both laughing. He felt a rush of mixed feelings. Would it be like that if he had a real family? A loving and caring family? He stared at the faces, full of affection and suddenly decided something. He turned the paper around and began to write. After that he folded it up and put it carefully between the bed's frame and the mattress. Then he just sat there, and it took a while before he noticed he was crying silently. Stupid me! He thought and frantically wiped away his tears.

_ You're not supposed to have a family, you don't need anybody but Mozzie!_

* * *

After another hour without a noise, Neal sneaked out of his room and silently went downstairs. Es expected, he found El's phone where it had been the night before. He hurried to dial the number and waited impatiently.

"Alfredo's Pizza, how can I help you?", the well-known voice answered.

Neal frowned. "What happened to the Red Dragon?", he couldn't help but ask.

"Too many competitors and … a little problem with the health department. Even though the rats weren't THAT bad, you know.", the voice answered matter-of-factly.

"Um… all right… Whatever. So, Is it still possible to order 42b without peppers and garlic?"

"It surely is. But I have to inform you, that 42b doesn't contain any garlic and peppers lately.", the voice replied drily.

Neal shook his head, a little annoyed now. "Could you just execute my order… please?"

"No need to overreact, sir. I'll see what I can do for you.", the voice answered obviously bored and cut the call without another word.

Neal took a deep breath. This time it took Keller less then five minutes to call him back.

"Are you finally ready to fulfil your duty, kid?", he bellowed.

"I told you, at first I want to talk to Mozzie.", Neal answered in a steady voice.

"You've got two minutes.", the badass simply answered. Neal waited anxiously.

"Neal, mon frère?", a familiar voice asked huskily.

"Thank god, Mozzie… I'm so sorry. How are you? Did they hurt you anymore?", Neal felt utterly relieved, at least his friend was still alive.

"I'm alright. The food could be better and … just a bit more. But don't worry, I'm tough. No need to be sorry, I always knew you would never let me down.", he sounded very weak. "

I'll get you out of this hell as soon as possble, I promise, Mozzie. Just hold on, I…", before he could continue, Keller interrupted him.

"That's enough, kid. I did what you wanted. So what about part of the deal?", he said sharply.

Neal felt bare hatred flooding his whole body. He took a deep breath to calm himself down. "I'll be in the headquarter tomorrow around noon. You'll get your stupid painting. And you better leave Mozzie alone, otherwise I promise, someday you'll regret it badly.", he said coldly.

Keller laughed out loud. "All right, I'm _extremely_ frightened now.", he said mockingly. "My contact is ready. Do what I want and you and you're friend can ride together in the sunset." He cut the call and left Neal exhausted and deep in desperate thoughts.


	18. Chapter 18

**Hey guys, first of all, I hope everyone of you is all right in this weird, horrible time! I'm in my parents house for almost four weeks now and we're only allowed to leave the household with members of our family for short walks or grocery shopping. It's kind of funny that my next chapter is located in a shopping mall, because that wouldn't be possible here right now. I wish you all the best, please stay safe! And I'll stop apologizing for the delays. I promise I'll go on writing, but it sometimes takes some time. Thanks again for your comments! Stay strong and healthy out there!**

* * *

Peter woke up with a gasp and looked around in confusion. It was still pitch black and he couldn't hear anything than the steady breathes of his wife right next to him. El recently began using earplugs, so he doubted an earthquake would be able to wake her up. He looked at his wife full of affection and smiled a little.

Then a piercing cry cut the silence. It took him only a few seconds to slip out of his bed and he ran towards the boy's room. Without hesitation he opened the guestroom's door and immediately saw Neal lying without his blanket in the middle of his bed, sweat- and maybe tears- were pouring down his face and he was shivering badly.

Peter went closer and carefully sat down. It felt like an exact repletion of the first night.

"Neal, I'm here buddy, wake up.", he said softly, but the boy obviously didn't hear him and didn't stop tossing himself around.

"Neal!", he tried a little louder. The boy winced but didn't wake up.

"Mozzie, I'm coming…please leave him alone, you fucking bastard… please… please hold on, don't die!", he cried, his voice full of desperation.

Peter hesitated, but then climbed onto the bed and pulled the sleeping boy in his arms as he did a few days before, after the boy's attempt to escape the hospital. He hugged him as tightly as he could and started talking to him soothingly.

"Come on, buddy. Wake up, you're safe with me. I promise!" It took the boy a few seconds, but then he furiously tried to free himself out of Peter's arms. "Nooo, leave me alone. I won't ever… you son of a bitch, leave me alone. You can't do that to me anymore…Let me go, just let me…", he shouted and struggled hard.

But Peter didn't let him go. "Calm down, Caffrey. It's fine, it's just me. Stop fighting!", he went on talking quietly and even tightened his hug.

Neal slowly regained full consciousness and stopped moving. He was breathing hard and Peter could feel his pulse pounding fast against his chest. At last the kid stopped struggling completely. They both sat there in silence for a few seconds and he could feel the kid relaxing a little. He leaned his head against Peter's arms, absolutely exhausted. Peter lowered his arms and the boy quickly slipped aside and awkwardly leaned on the wall next to him

"All right now, buddy?", Peter quietly asked, and the boy answered with a small nod. "Who did you think I was?"

"I didn't mean to say… those words to you.", the kid quietly replied.

"That's not a proper answer to my question." Neal just hung his head but didn't answer.

"You said you would be honest from now on.", Peter reminded him.

"I told you, my personal past is none of your business, because it's not important. I told you several times now, please don't ask anymore. It has nothing to do with the things I did… the criminal ones, I mean.", Neal replied harshly and avoided Peter's gaze.

"I don't really believe that.", Peter stated simply and they both went quiet again. Neal awkwardly tried to get rid of the tears with the back of his hand and looked down ashamed.

"So… does that mean that it's a family member you were thinking of?", he went on. Neal didn't answer, but Peter could see his clenched fists, the anger and pain in his face and new tears appearing.

"All right, I got it, calm down.", he sighted. "What about Mozzie? Is he – or she?- part of this I-won't-talk-about-my- past-and family thing, too?", he carefully added. "And don't tell me I misheard something, because that won't work twice, you know! I may be old, but I'm not stupid and my hearing is quite well, too.".

Neal's eyes widened and he looked at him, uncertain how to answer. He denied talking again and Peter just waited and raised his eyebrows questioningly. He could see Neal fighting against himself.

"I…it's… kind of family. I just… I miss him, that's all.", the kid mumbled, lowering his gaze again.

"I don't think so, buddy!", Peter said softly. "You were screaming in your sleep. It sounded as if you were scared as hell. Is he in danger?"

Neal hesitated and then shook his head. "It's all right. I mean… I guess he's all right.", he said, barely noticeably.

"You're sure kid?", Peter tried to touch Neal's knee beside him, but the boy obviously didn't see it coming, so he flinched badly and backed away again before he regained control over his body and stopped moving, his eyes focussing Peter.

"It's all right, I should know better by now.", Peter gently said and raised his hands to ease him a little. The boy's piercing blue eyes stared at him, desperate and lost.

"No…I'm sorry…I'm… I think I'm just… not really used to be touched like that. It's not your fault.", he quietly admitted, and Peter could see a hint of regret right after telling him so.

He eyed him carefully. "So…what exactly is it you are used to?", he asked thoughtfully, and could literally feel the boy stiffening again.

"Please, Peter, please stop it.", he calmly replied. Peter sighed heavily, slipped off the bed and watched Neal, who now hugged his knees again and ignored him.

"You promise you'll talk to me tomorrow if I avoid personal topics, do you?" Neal nodded without any hesitation but didn't look up.

"All right. So, try to get some sleep." The kid nodded again, and Peter turned to leave the room.

"Peter?" He stopped. "Yes?" Neal still refused to look him in the eyes. "Thank you… for waking me up and … you know."

"You're welcome, kid." A smile crossed the agent's face. He wouldn't stop fighting for this boy. How could he?

* * *

El had already left them both early the next morning and they were finishing breakfast in an awkward silence.

"So…ready for some shopping?", Peter tried to lighten the mood.

Neal shrugged and looked down at his ankle. "Am I even allowed to?"

The agent chuckled. "As long as you're with me, that won't be a problem. But seriously, kid, you're staying close to me, understand? I'm totally aware of your abilities, no need to proof them. Is that clear?"

Neal nodded. "It is, Peter. I promise.", he said firmly. The kid hesitated a little, but then pointed on his hoodie.

"Um, Peter. Is there anything else for me to wear? I mean, I understand that this label would be perfect to recognize me in a crowded shop, but… I'd prefer something a little less… sensational?!"

Peter laughed out loud. "Let me see what I can do for you. Even though I like the thought of myself asking for an announcement through the speakers saying I've lost my labelled property."

Neal smiled, too. "I guess that would be great. Hundreds of housewives and senior citizens hunting me down to get the reward. But no, I'd rather not."

Peter chuckled again. "Who said you'd be worth a reward?"

The kid's smile grew wider. "Good to know. Makes it so much easier. Who on earth would bother to run after a kid without even getting a single dollar?"

"Oh, you bet I would. You won't ever get away again, kid. I promise!", Peter replied casually, and he could see that Neal got it as he intended him to. He threw him a firm and at the same time gentle look. The kid slowly nodded reluctantly.

* * *

Peter went upstairs to grab some, according to Neal, not-too-bad-looking pieces to wear for the boy and they were heading towards a huge shopping mall outside the city only half an hour later. Neal was convulsively looking out of the window during the whole drive and Peter felt once more uncertain how to react, so he let him be for the moment. Then suddenly he recognized a small movement beside him and could see Neal slide nervously back and forth on his seat, still observing the neighbourhood.

"What's wrong, kiddo?", Peter asked him gently. Neal, obviously deep in thoughts, hastily turned around.

"What? Oh… nothing, just a… you know, it's not really a common thing for me to go shopping with a fed.", he brought out hesitantly and concentrated on the street in front of him.

Peter shook his head. _Why did he even bother asking? Stubborn kid. _When they both left the car and headed inside the building, Neal went stiffly beside him and constantly kept looking around, even though he tried to hide it. He threw Peter several sideway glances and looked as if he liked to disappear, he even ducked his head.

"What is this about, Neal? You're looking like a scared puppy away from his mother for the first time. I'm not the one you're scared of right now, am I?", he asked him annoyed.

The kid flinched and met his gaze guiltily but remained quiet for a short while. "No. I'm sorry. I guess it's just the tracking anklet and… all this. It feels awkward, the whole situation. And this neighbourhood. Give me time to adjust!", he then quietly admitted.

Now it was Peter's turn to look around in confusion. "What's wrong with the neighbourhood? We always come here, El and me, it's a nice mall. And I doubt anyone will recognize me as an Agent and your anklet is covered, so don't be ridiculous."

Neal snorted. "This mall may be nice, Peter. But I tell you, the neighbourhood isn't. You won't see it through the colourful walls in here, though. And sorry Peter, but every person with some sense will recognize you for what you are. You couldn't hide it, even if you tried."

"Every _criminal_ person with some sense, you mean.", he pointed out. Neal just shrugged.

"How do you know?", Peter asked thoughtfully.

"Know what?", Neal answered distracted by a skinny man who passed them.

"That this isn't a nice neighbourhood, silly.", he teased him.

"I've been here a few times. For… some businesses."

"Businesses?"

"Well… I suppose you wouldn't want to know. Would you mind going in there, Peter? I really like their stuff.", Neal answered evasively, pointing on a store window with ugly neon clothes. He doubted this was Neal's style, either.

"Well… why not?.", he sighed, and he left it for now.

* * *

Neal grabbed the first shirt in sight and went into the changing room of that horrible store just to have a minute on his own to think this through. Of all the neighbourhoods around New York it must have been this one. His father's flat was located only half a mile away and Neal recognized at least three of his companions passing them. He felt a shiver running down his spine. What if one of them already contacted his father? Could he ask Peter to return home straight away? He still felt a little weak after his sickness, so he supposed it wouldn't be difficult to convince Peter. But no, that wasn't possible. Peter wouldn't let him return to the headquarter under these circumstances. And he had to go there, no matter what.

"Are you all right, buddy?", Peter shouted from outside the cabin.

Neal took a deep breath and left it without the ugly shirt. "Yes. I changed my mind, this isn't my style, not at all."

Peter raised his brows and grinned. "Well, that's a relieve!".

They both left the store and it took Neal a lot to hide his nervousness. When they turned around a corner, Neal spotted a mobile sales booth with several hats displayed all around it. _Thank god!_ He thought. He went over, followed by Peter, and took a nice, dark blue fedora. He never had one of these, but it fitted him perfectly and he liked how it felt on his head.

"Peter, could you do me a favour? I'd like this hat. I always wanted one of these.", he asked innocently.

"You… what? Are you kidding me? Isn't this something an old man would like to wear?", the agent asked irritated.

Neal shrugged. "A man with style wears a hat. That's not a question of age.", he simply answered.

Peter sighed heavily. "Whatever. You haven't got anything to wear by now, but you'll own a hat. It's a start… I guess.", he turned to pay for the hat und Neal pulled it deep down his forehead. He felt relieve flooding through his body. At least, now he felt a littler safer.

* * *

After Peter paid for this weird hat the boy had asked him for, something changed. They went into several shops afterwards and Neal was in a far better mood now. The boy didn't want Peter to spend too much money on him, but after all the Agent could convince him and they left with several bags of plain, but elegant looking clothes.

"Would you like something to eat before we're leaving?", Peter asked the kid.

"I'm not really hungry!", he quietly replied and Peter noticed his gaze following a strangers back again.

"Well, I certainly am, and I have to say that you don't really have a choice but to follow me, young man.", Peter said matter-of-factly. He could see a hint of fear in the kid's expression now, but as long as he refused talking to him, Peter wouldn't give in. They headed towards the food court.

"May I sit down as long as you grab your food?", the boy asked hesitantly.

"Nice try. But no, today you'll be my shadow." And Neal obeyed. When they finally sat down in a dark corner close to the emergency exit, Neal's choice, Peter started eating.

"You sure you're not hungry?", he asked between two bites and the boy shook his head. The agent lay down his half-eaten burger.

"Neal, what's bothering you right now? Why are you so nervous? It's not an easy task to help someone who denies any offered opportunities, you know? This isn't you. Where's the self-confident, smart and cocky boy?".

Neal stared at the tabletop and they both sat in silence for a few minutes. Peter sighted and went on eating his burger.

"All right. I guess no answer is an answer, too.", he dryly stated, his mouth full. After a few more seconds, Neal lifted up his gaze and looked him directly in the eyes.

"You're right, Peter. I'm not my usual self right now, even though I hadn't expected you'd prefer the person I've been before. There's a lot going on and I've got some difficulties to cope with it, I'm sorry that I can't fulfil your expectations. You want to know why I'm so nervous? Well… this used to be MY fucking neighbourhood. I lived here. I survived here. But I certainly didn't want to return. Are you satisfied now, Special Agent?", he spit out with tears of anger in his eyes. He stood up and left the table.

"Where do you think you're going?", Peter shouted.

"I need the toilet, if it's all right with you, but I'll be back. Track my anklet if you don't believe me. Or arrest me right now, I don't care.", he offered him his wrists and waited. When Peter didn't react, Neal turned around.

"Whatever!", he said and headed towards the bathrooms.

* * *

When Neal reached the toilet, he firmly closed the cabinets door behind him and leaned against it. Cold sweat was running down his face and he could hardly breath. _What the hell did he just do? _Peter was right, he wasn't himself, at all. He had to find a way back, as soon as possible. He didn't like this weak and needy version of himself. It took him a few minutes to calm down, before he felt strong enough to leave the cabin. He went over to the sink and splashed cold water in his face.

Someone was entering the room and Neal half expected it to be Peter, looking after him. He reluctantly turned around, but before he had the opportunity to recognize the man in front of him, a fist was rammed into his stomach. He hunched and felt over on the dirty ground, pain exploding in his chest.

The man kicked him violently and Neal saw stars and wasn't able to breath. A hand grabbed his shirt and pulled him up. He struggled desperately to free himself, but his enemy forced him to look at him. Neal stared at the well-known, cold eyes.

"Hello son!", his father said with a false, cruel smile and pressed him against the cold white tiles. "Nice to finally see you again!".


	19. Chapter 19

**Hello again :), now I finaly decided how to go on. It took me quite a while. But afterwards it felt a lot easier to write it down, so I hope there won't be such a long delay anymore. Thank you so much for the reviews and for all the quiet readers. I'm working part time in a residential home for elderly people now, besides my master thesis and I somehow enjoy it and have a lot more energy, which is weird, because it takes a lot of time and it's not easy, because so many of them feel alone without their relatives. I hope that this will be over soon. I hope that you're all save and healthy out there! :) Now, enjoy please!**

* * *

Neal couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He felt scared and desperate. But he could feel something else rising up. Anger. Raw and indomitable, waiting deep inside him for so long. Even though he didn't deserve it at all, Peter and El showed him how it could have been. And he suddenly knew that he could never ever live his old life again.

His father's fist hit his chest again, but he couldn't feel the pain anymore. An unknown strength flooded his body and he pushed James as hard away as he could manage. His father's eyes widened, and he stumbled a few steps backward and crashed against a toilet's door. But he quickly became his former self again and a nasty grin spread on his face.

"Woah, son. I didn't know that there's a real Bennett inside this skinny artist. I'm impressed."

Neal was shivering and felt nothing but disgust. "I'm not a Bennett. I'll never be like you, a _piece of shit.", _he spit out and tried to reach the door to leave. Within a split second, James went over to block the exit.

"Let me go! I'm not part of your life anymore.", Neal said in a firm, strong voice and he forced himself to hold his fathers gaze.

"Not yet, kid. You owe me something.", his father clicked his tongue and shook his head, as if he was talking to a small child.

"I don't owe you _anything_! You owe me my childhood! Just get out of my way and stay away from me, for good."

James started laughing and grabbed his son's shoulders tightly. Neal could feel his new courage slowly disappear.

"Listen, you little bastard. If you want to leave your beloved father and live on your own, that's fine with me. But you didn't finish your last job. I know what happened.", he kicked his foot against Neal's anklet. "I know where you're living right now. And I know what Keller wants you to do. It's the same _I _want you to do. But you'll hand the painting to me, not to Keller."

Neal started to sweat. "No! I can't do that. I have to fulfil Keller's request. I have to!", he freed himself and slowly backed away from bis father until he reached the restroom's wall.

"You did that forgery under my roof. You are my son, my property. I fed you, I paid for your supplies…"

Neal, now furious again, interrupted him harshly. "You WHAT? You've never earned a penny for several years now. I took care of everything. You treated me like a slave, and I won't tolerate that anymore. I'm not a child anymore. I know what I'm capable of and I know that you always exploited me."

His father slapped his face and Neal couldn't stand upright anymore. He hit the ground and could taste blood in his mouth.

"You fucking brat! Never talk to me like that again, or I swear you'll regret it. Listen to me, we don't have time to waste. I know your fed friend is waiting for you. Here's the deal: After you got that painting, you'll hand it to me. I'll sell it to Keller afterwards, to get what is due to me. And after that, I won't bother you anymore. If you refuse, I promise I'll find you, no matter where you hide. I'll hunt you, torture you and then you'll find out what it really means to work like a slave. You're my possession, that won't change until I allow it. Understand?", he underlined his spoken words with a kick in his son's stomach. Neal struggled to breathe again.

"I…have to… _Mozzie_…", he brought out.

"Ahh, you're freaky little friend. Tell you what, Keller won't dirty his hands because of an insignificant petty criminal. I bet he'll let him go right after he got his damned painting, don't you think? Either way, after you're out of the headquarter, you'll come straight to me. Understood? Remember, you won't ever feel free otherwise. And who says it couldn't be me who- accidently- killed your little friend?".

Before Neal had time to answer, the door behind his father opened and they both hastily turned around. A man in a black suit entered the room and looked puzzled at Neal. His father stretched out his hand and offered it to Neal.

"May I help you up, young man? I told you, the floor is unbelievable slippery right here.", he said, almost too friendly. Neal looked back and forth between his dad and the stranger and hesitantly took the offered hand. The stranger's expression changed, and he now looked bored and uninvolved and went without a second look in one of the toilet cabinets. His father turned around and headed towards the exit door.

"Have a nice day, kid! And remember my words, always be careful!", he said, but ran his finger along his neck, imitating a deadly knife. His cold eyes fixed his son for a moment, then he was gone.

* * *

Peter took another look at his watch. He wanted to offer the kid some time alone, to give him space to calm down a little. But Neal had left over fifteen minutes ago, and even though Peter could see, thanks to his tracking app, that he wasn't moving, he decided to take a look now. #

On his way to the restrooms, he nearly crashed into a dark haired, unpleasant looking man with scars all over his face and cold, piercing eyes. "Excuse me, sir!", the man mumbled and rushed away. Peter could smell a faint scent of alcohol and shook his head, it wasn't even proper lunch time!

When he reached the restroom's door, it opened before he could grab the handle. Neal was standing in the doorframe, startled by his appearance he winced, but managed to hold his head down.

"You're all right, kid?", Peter asked gently. "Yes. Just needed some time to … think. Can we go know, Peter? Please?", he mumbled.

"Well…yes. Of course, we can. You're sure you're all right?". His gut told him once more that the kid wasn't.

"Told you so, Peter. Let's just leave…please." They headed towards the main exit and almost forgot the kid's new clothes. Outside, they were blinded by the bright sunlight. After his eyes adjusted, Peter threw the kid a sideway glance and suddenly noticed a red swelling all over the boy's left cheek. Without thinking, he reached out for the boy's chin.

"What the hell…", he yelled.

Neal's eyes widened. He gasped, dodged away and almost fell down. He held his chest in pain and took a deep breath. Peter just stood and watched him, feeling unable to react. After a moment, the kid slowly straightened up, fear in his eyes, and took a few steps backwards. Peter stood still and watched him in disbelief. How could that has happened in less than fifteen minutes? Neal just stared at him.

Peter then suddenly headed back inside the mall. "Follow me!", he commanded, and the kid obeyed reluctantly.

He ran towards the restrooms and entered in a rush. As expected, he found all the cabins empty, but could see small spatter of blood next to a rusty sink. Neal stood motionless in the doorframe and watched him.

"Holy shit, what happened here, Caffrey?". No answer. Peter shook his head. It obviously was too late. Whatever happened, the other part in this was clearly long gone. He sighted in frustration.

"All right, let's just get inside the car, come on.", he said after a few seconds and turned to leave, avoiding to look at the kid. Neal followed him hesitantly and after a few silent minutes they both entered Peter's Taurus. The kid concentrated on his lap when Peter cleared his throat.

"You won't tell me you just bumped into a door, will you?", he finally said. Neal quickly met his eyes and shook his head.

"Good. Because, like I told you, I'm not stupid." Neal didn't answer. "Will you tell me what really happened?".

The kid raised his head to look outside the front window, his gaze tired and blank. "I met a…friend of mine.", he quietly replied.

Peter sighted heavily. "Honestly, kid. I'm fed up with your lies.", he shouted at him. Neal winced and Peter could see tears in his eyes. He took a deep breath and continued a lot calmer. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout at you."

A heavy silence spread in the car. Suddenly Neal turned around and stared at him with his bright blue eyes, which seemed awfully lifeless right now. "You don't have to be sorry. I know, I'm nothing but trouble. And I still don't understand why you're doing all this. I won't bother you anymore after my confession, I promise.", his voice sounded flat and entreatingly. Peter needed a second to congregate himself, he felt the urge to yell at the boy again, but managed a gently, but firm tone.

"What you don't understand, buddy, is that it's too late. I won't leave you alone. I won't let you go. And I won't stop worrying about you. No matter what." Neal slumped down in his seat, his forehead resting on his window.

Peter felt once more helpless and felt the strong desire to call EL, but he knew he had to manage this on his own. "We'll work this out, kid. I promise.", he said softly. For a short while, they both sat, occupied with their own thoughts.

Then the kid started talking in a husky, scarcely audible voice. "It's been my dad.", he simply said, avoiding Peter's gaze.

Peter was taken aback and didn't know what to say. "Your… dad? He did that to you?". Neal nodded. "But…why?", he said, feeling completely outraged.

The kid lifted his head and shrugged. "I disobeyed. And he ran out of beer, I suppose.", he said, sounding detached and impassive.

The agent suddenly remembered the creepy man he nearly bumped into and tried to remember him as best as he could. "Are there scars in his face?", he curiously asked.

Neal looked at him, obviously surprised. "Yes! How did you know?".

"Well, we somehow met each other... If only I had known then what he did before. How the hell did he find you?", Peter still couldn't believe it.

Neal shrugged again. "It's one of his few talents."

Peter furrowed his brows, scared to ask any further. "And…he's the one who… who abused you, right? In your former life, I mean.", he hesitantly asked. Now Neal met his eyes.

"I want to leave that part of my life behind, Peter. I'm not a victim and I don't want to be treated like one." Peter nodded and reluctantly started the engine. "But we're not done with that topic, understand?". Neal nodded again wearily.

After that, they both remained quiet, until they reached the agent's home. Neal silently went upstairs, and Peter started the kettle to make some tea for both of them. He sat down to rest for a few minutes, but the thoughts were swirling uncontrollable in his head, so he grabbed the bags with the kid's clothes and followed him upstairs. He softly knocked on the guestroom's door and heard a quiet "Come in!" afterwards.

Neal was sitting on his bed, the ointment in his hand, his upper body naked. Peter backed away. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…".

Neal interrupted him. "No… it's ok. I guess, now you know. Could you…help me please?". Peter could see how hard it was for him to ask this question and felt unbelievable touched.

"Of course!", he finally managed to answer. He sat down next to the kid and reached for the ointment. He hesitated.

"It's all right, I won't jump this time.", Neal joked half-heartedly and threw him a weak smile. Peter gave it a start and began to rub the ointment onto Neal's back. The boy breathed in sharply and Peter could see the reflection of pain on his face.

"Do you need a doctor?", he gently asked. Now Neal winced badly, and Peter wasn't sure whether it was because of his touches or his question.

"No, I'm fine, honestly!", the kid hurried to reply. "Let me just change afterwards and I'm ready to go!".

"Go? No! You won't go anywhere today. I feel responsible for what happened, and I won't let you suffer more. You'll stay here and relax! No need to hurry.", Peter determined.

Neal turned around his eyes widened in horror. "No! I have to go. I… Peter, I have to…free my mind. There's so much to confess and I feel nervous about that. I'd like to get it over and done with. Please!", he begged, full of desperation.

The agent felt once more taken aback. He somehow got the feeling, that there was something else behind the boy's wish to confess. But he also knew that he couldn't postpone it forever. And he also knew how keen his boss and all the other person concerned were to listen to his testimony.

"Well, if you're sure you can make it…", he said doubtfully.

"I am.", the boy nodded frantically. Peter finished his bandage and handed him the bag with his new shirts and pants.

"All right. I'll prepare a hot drink downstairs before we go. Just come down whenever you're ready, buddy!", Peter said and smiled encouragingly at Neal.

"Thank you, Peter…for everything you did. I won't ever forget!", the kid said, great relief in his expression. The agent nodded, suddenly a lump in his throat. "You're more than welcome, kid!"


	20. Chapter 20

Hey guys! :) Thanks again for you patience and for all your comments! I really enjoy writing right now and the next chapter is almost ready, too. Hope you're all healthy out there. Have fun!

* * *

Neal once more entered the FBI headquarters main entrance, his heart pounding fast in his chest. He felt the shape of the key card in his right shoe under his foot. Hopefully, they would not search him. He looked at Peter, who threw him an encouragingly smile, before he went through the metal detector.

To his utter dismay, the device began to bleep, and he had to step aside. A security guard with tired eyes stepped forward.

"I've to pat you down, kid. Will be quick, don't worry."

Neal nodded and managed to stand still, even though he couldn't keep himself from slightly shaking. If he had to take off his shoes, he would have been done for. But the guard stopped after reaching his ankle. He carefully lifted Neal's pants and grinned.

"I see! That's the evildoer! Suppose you're a real badass, aren't you, kiddo?". Neal shrugged indefinitely.

The guard broke into laughter. "Can't be that bad, according to your angelic face." He straightened and faced him with a friendly smile.

"Well, whatever. You're ready to go, buddy. You're with agent Burke, right? Don't worry. He's one of the good guys!" Neal hung his head, recognizing a well-known feeling of guilt rising up.

"I know! Thank you, sir!", he replied and turned to leave.

"Good luck, kid!" Neal waved back and threw him a weak smile.

Peter was waiting in front of the elevators. "You're all right?", he asked concerned.

"Yeah, don't worry Peter. It was just my beloved jewellery down there!", he replied sarcastically.

Peter chuckled. "At least it's something unique. Which is worthwhile for a conman, isn't it?", he replied.

"Nah, not remotely old enough and absolutely not my taste. Would you mind taking it back?", Neal answered with a serious expression.

Peter chuckled again. "Forget it, kid! But don't worry, it suits you." T

hey both entered the lift, standing silently side by side. Peter watched the kid intensely and noticed his clenched fists. "Don't worry. I'll take care, we'll treat you right.", he softly said. Neal nodded and managed a half smile.

When they entered the office, Neal once more felt all eyes on him. He hurried to look down, feeling ashamed. The good-looking female agent came closer.

"Hello, boss. Nice to have you back! Hughes wants you to join him in his office. Shall I take _him_ over?", she said, ignoring Neal as best as she could.

"Yes, thank you Diana. Please be gentle, will you?", he slightly squeezed his arm and left Neal in her custody, who ventured a quick glance at the agent and noticed her derogatory look.

* * *

"Come on, Caffrey.", agent Barrigan said in a frosty tone and grabbed his left arm to guide him.

Neal resisted the urge to free himself and willingly went with her to the well-known interrogation room. He silently sighted in relief. At least he knew where he was. He entered the room and took place behind the table. The agent sat down in front of him and just stared at him in silence. He felt more and more uncomfortable but remained as calm es possible. He even managed to return her gaze.

"What is this all about, Caffrey?", she sharply asked after a while.

"I beg you pardon?", he answered, feeling slightly taken aback.

"Oh, come on, stop being foolish. Agent Burke may, but I don't fall for this kind of tricks. We were looking for you for years and didn't even have a clue that you're just a teenage boy. We couldn't catch you, you were a pain in the ass for all of us. And suddenly there you are, standing in our office, sleeping in agent Burke's home. I repeat myself: What is this all about? What made you surrender?", she questioningly raised her eyebrows, her expression full of suspicion.

He held her gaze. This kind of treatment was something he felt familiar with and his cocky self became noticeable.

"Well, maybe I just wanted to know what it's like in my enemies home? A little courtesy call is never amiss.", he said self-reliantly, leaning back in his chair cross armed.

Her expression changed, reflecting anger and annoyance. "Stop that, kid. Don't play with me, it's certainly not the time and not the place. We both know you're here on purpose, with a specific goal. I assume this didn't work out as you had planned it, considering your little accessory. But you're not someone who gives up that easily. I think agent Burke isn't able to see that anymore. Peter's is a brilliant agent and a respectable man, but he lost his objectivity in your case. You better keep in mind that even if you were able to mystify agent Burke, there are a bunch of agents behind him, who won't stop being suspicious! He did a lot to protect you, I don't really think you deserve that! You're a criminal, regardless of your age. You caused a lot of trouble and you won't escape your punishment. I'll take care of that!", she said sternly.

He smiled, feeling excitement tickling in his stomach. He could definitely work with this kind of treatment. He shrugged indefinitely.

"I _allegedly_ caused a lot of trouble. But well, you're right. I definitely don't deserve Peter's kindness. I never asked for any of that. Don't worry, even though I really appreciate what the Burke's did for me, I'm not planning to disturb their life for much longer." He couldn't hide the bitterness in his tone and noticed that she was frowning. He stared at the tabletop for a few seconds.

They remained quiet for a few seconds, before she went on talking, her tone a lot more gentle now. "Well, would you like something to drink? Water or coffee?", she asked him.

"Water would be great, thank you.", he said, raising his gaze again, smiling at her. She left the room. Neal was well aware that, even though no one was inside the room, he had to expect someone standing behind the one-way mirror, watching his doings. So he remained perfectly calm and just waited for something to happen. When the female Agent came back with his glass of water, Peter followed her and they both sat down in front of him.

Peter's appearance had changed, he seemed much more formal now. Neal felt his nervousness again, mixed with excitement and anticipation. He realized that somehow this kind of conversation suited him much better than the former ones with Peter about his feelings. He hadn't have experienced gentleness in the previous years and consequently didn't know how to react. But he had to handle similar situation like the current one several times and always found a way out of them, so he felt far more self-confident.

He knew he had to offer them at least something, but he had to be careful not to reveal too much. Peter turned on the recording device at the table in front of them.

"All right, Neal. This is Agent Diana Berrigan and I suppose I don't have to introduce myself. Are you ready?", he threw him a professional but warm smile and Neal nodded, returning his smile.

"Perfect. At first, tell us your full name, please!", Peter demanded.

"Neal George Caffrey.", he obeyed willingly.

"Thank you. Well, as we all know, you were caught red-handed while breaking into the Metropolitan Museum of Arts, trying to steal a valuable painting by Raphael. Do you admit doing that?", Peter stared at him expectantly.

Neal shrugged and grinned sheepishly. "I guess I haven't got a choice."

"And the painting, the…wait a minute." Peter began searching through the file in front of him, his file, Neal assumed.

"The agony in the garden.", Neal helped him out, still grinning.

Peter looked up, puzzled for a split second. "Well, yes. Were you especially after that painting?"

"No, I just liked it. I'm interested in different works of art, you know. And I really adore Raphael, so I thought why not stealing something nice and valuable I strongly admire? I'd like to have a painting like that one day, preferably hanging over my sofa in my mansion in Italy. I'd love the sight of it while drinking a nice Cabernet Sauvignon.", he replied without the slightest hesitation. Of course, he expected a question like that and had decided earlier on that it wouldn't be wise to reveal his specific target. That obviously wouldn't make it easier to steal it again.

Now Diana asked sharply. "Incredible. Stop messing around, kid. You're sitting in front of two special agents. This isn't a game, you've committed a serious crime and you'll most likely spend a few years in prison after all. Why did you do that? Why risking to break into a high security museum like the MET? Just for fun?"

He looked at her, impassively. "I needed the money. And I tell you, agent Barrigan. The safety standards are surprisingly low. It's definitely NOT high secure.", he shrugged again.

"And whose idea was it? Who planned the whole heist?", Peter went on, still watching him intensely.

"Oh Peter, don't you think I would be able to plan it myself? You're hurting my feelings." Peter raised his brows. Neal chuckled and quickly added: "Ok, ok, I'm just kidding. I got wind of the possibility to earn a lot of money in one night and just attended, without thinking twice.", he tried to look as innocently and young as possible.

Agent Berrigan snorted. "Come on, Caffrey. You're not an ordinary teenage boy and you're definitely never doing something without even thinking about it. Don't tell us you didn't know exactly what was going on and who was behind all this."

Man, that woman clearly wasn't easy to circumvent. "Well… First of all: Thanks, that's too kind!", he winked at her and she rolled her eyes. Neal grinned satisfied, but then noticed the serious look of Peter next to her.

He shrugged again. "I really needed the money. And even though I'm not stupid and yes, I normally do think twice, I had to do it.", he simply added.

"What for?", Peter eyed him carefully.

It took Neal a moment to think about it. "Nothing special. Ordinary things, like food, rental fees, clothes…", he then answered calmly.

He saw agent Barrigan's eyes soften a little. "You had to take care of such things? Even though you were only what… 14 by then?" Neal stiffened slightly and he looked at her defensively. He didn't like this new direction.

"I've been able to take care of myself for a very long time and I still am. As you said, I'm not an ordinary teenage boy and I like it that way.", he snapped, avoiding their gazes.

The female agent leaned back in her chair, sighting. "I see, tough guy…", she exchanged glances with Peter, so Neal assumed that he recently briefed her not to go deeper inside the family background subject. Another wave of guilt caught him, and he felt strangely touched by that realization.

"Well... We'll come back to your former crimes later…". Neal interrupted her. "My _alleged_ former crimes!", he corrected her determined.

She heavily sighted again. "Yeah, whatever. For now, let's get back to the one who planned the whole thing. Do yourself a favour and just tell us about him."

Neal shook his head in regret. "Sorry, I can't."

Peter groaned. "You promised something, kid. Remember that.", he sharply said.

"I know, Peter. But I never said I'd involve others in my confessions.", Neal forced himself to meet the agent's eyes.

Agent Barrigan shook her head. "That's a pity, kid. It really is. So, am I right that you're not willing to reveal the other persons involved? Besides the head of it, I mean? We've still got one of your allies in our holding cell, but he's not much of a help.", Neal went on staring at Peter, trying to convey that he felt really sorry, then he slowly shook his head again.

Peter rubbed his forehead "Could you at least describe how you managed to get inside the building? What about all the security devices? What about the guards?", he then asked, sounding very tired.

Neal's face lit up. Now he finally had something to offer. He began to explain his approach, in every detail, without revealing anything about Mozzie or the other guy. It took him over half an hour. In the end, he hesitated for a moment, but then he even told them that they had a deal with the guards, which he assumed Peter already knew by then. Peter nodded, satisfied and smiled at him.

"Pretty impressive, Caffrey." He went on, asking a few questions about his proceeding, which Neal tried to answer as best as he could. It felt nice to please the agent, even though he knew he soon had to disappoint him again.

"Well, that's even something. I bet the MET is eager to get this information.", Peter went on. Neal smiled back, suppressing a yawning, which Peter noticed.

"I think it's enough for today!", he determined, sorting out the papers in front of him. Neal felt a cold shiver running down his spine. He had to stay just a little bit longer!

Then Peter went on talking. "I'll just check a few things in my office and discuss something in private with my team before we head back home, kid. You'll wait here. But don't worry, I'll send a junior agent to keep you company!", he chuckled.

Neal felt relieved, but hurried to hide his feelings. "Aww, Peter. I thought, by now you'd trust me!", which he obviously couldn't, he bitterly thought.

Peter grinned. "I'll be back soon. Don't do something stupid!", he mockingly replied and they both left the room. Neal took a deep breath, stealing himself for his upcoming task. His chest hurt, as if his ribs tried to remind him of the duty his father wanted him to fulfil. Now he was alone in his room, he struggled to sit upright, all the strength vanished with the leaving of the two agents.

A young male agents entered the room soon after and sat down in front of him. He seemed to feel uneasy and didn't question him in any way, so Neal remained quiet too.

Suddenly someone knocked and a middle-aged man in a black suit entered the room.

"Neal Caffrey, right? You've got to follow me, kid.", he simply said, without introducing himself.

The young agent qickly stood up. "What? No… I've got the order to stay here in this room with Mr. Caffrey, until agent Burke comes back!", he stuttered, even blocking the other man's way with wide eyes.

"Calm down, mate.", the stranger took out his badge and showed it to the younger man, sounding very bored. "It's a direct order of agent Burke. He obviously just forgot to tell you. Mr. Caffrey has to come with me for identification purposes. And you better not disturb agent Burke right now, he's in a meeting and, as you will know, he doesn't like any form of interruption."

Without waiting any longer, he pushed the agent aside and grabbed Neal's arm to pull him up and out of the interrogation room. Neal's upper body screamed in pain, but he ignored it. If only he had taken a few more of the painkillers this morning... The young agent stayed behind. _Poor guy!_ he thought.

They turned around a corner. Neal freed his arm in a rush.

"Leave me alone.", he hissed through his teeth. The man groaned and grabbed his arm again. "Stop that, fucking son of a bitch. You caused enough trouble. I'm risking my career to make this possible. So just stop moaning." Neal clenched his fists but remained quiet. The man led him to the elevator. As soon as they entered it, the man began to talk again.

"Listen to me, kid, cause I won't have time to repeat anything. When we reach the basement, I'll press the emergency button to stop the elevator. After that, I'll help you climbing on top of the cabin and you'll be able to reach the ventilation shaft. You'll have to crawl and take the first one right, then right again, then left. Try to leave the shaft as quietly as possible, the exit is behind a huge shelf, but try to anyway. The guard in front of the actual evidence champer is lazy, he normally doesn't move that much, but be careful. Head right and you'll stand in front of the main with the safe. I suppose you know how to go on after that, don't you?", he looked at him intensely. Neal nodded.

Again, he had to admit, that he felt somehow thrilled in a pleasant way by the thought of the upcoming events. So maybe that was his fate anyway, he would remain a criminal forever, because he needed the agitation. The man suddenly grabbed his arms again and forced them behind his back. A sharp pain made him wince.

"Shut up, kid. And leave your hands where they are.", the man hurried to say.

The elevator doors opened and revealed a bunch of people waiting outside and trying to enter it. "Sorry, I've got an inmate in here, so no one else is allowed.", his attendant said, blocking the entrance. The people outside complained loudly, but otherwise obeyed.

The stranger repeated this two times, until they reached the basement. Then he pressed the emergency button and the elevator stopped moving abruptly. "Come on!", he hastily said and tried to remove a panel over their heads. Neal tried his best to help him, but saw stars swimming in front of his eyes because of the pain, so he stopped. The man threw him a sharp glance, but didn't say anything.

When finally the exit above them was open, the man rummaged in his pocket and handed him a small torch and a black key. "You'll need that key for your anklet. Use it after leaving the building, understood? As long as you're inside, he won't be able to trace you, we're deep down. But removing it will start an alarm, so don't do it too soon. Do you have the key card?", he asked.

Neal nodded and with the help of a given leg up climbed through the small opening above them. He gritted his teeth to avoid a yelp, it felt like a knife cutting straight through his upper body. He managed to stay conscious by shaking his head and focused on his surroundings. It was pitch black in the elevator's shaft and smelled of old iron and oil.

Neal turned on the torch and could at least see a little bit more, even though the cone of light was pretty small. Neal noticed a ladder on the left hand side and a few meters above he could see the entrance he was looking for. For a moment, he looked down in the cabin again. The man watched him intensely.

"Good luck, boy! I know how it is to be indebted to Keller. He's dangerous. Listen… just don't mess around with him. Do whatever he wants you to do and then run, as far as you can. Take care!", his face softened slightly, and Neal noticed a hint of sympathy in his expression.

He suddenly realised that this man, whoever he was, most likely had to follow his own advise after his latest actions. His debt to Keller had to be enormous to risk his own career and life just to help him. Neal threw him a grimly smile.

"Thanks, I'll try my best!". Without a second glance he headed towards the ladder, climbed up and, ignoring his aching body, crawled through the dusty tunnel. It felt like a déjà vu and he thought how absurd it was that he had described a situation similar to the one right now just minutes before in front of the two agents.

The thought of Peter and Elizabeth crossed his mind and feelings of guilt and sadness crept over him. He threw a glance in the dark, cold tunnel in front of him and suddenly felt the urge to turn around and return to Peter's office. But then the lift behind him started moving again and the roaring sound helped him to focus on his goal. He had to help Mozzie and after that start all over again, nothing else mattered.

* * *

Peter banged his fist on the iron table in the interrogation room, making the young agent in front of him flinch.

"What do you mean "he just left"? You disregarded a direct order. I told you to stay with him in this room and he "just left"?", he roared in discomposure.

The young man looked frightened and absolutely helpless, like a puppy right after the separation of his mother. But Peter neither had the time, nor the patience to act sensitively. After reappearing, the young agent sheepishly looked at him and Peter knew in an instant that something went wrong. He listened to the story of an unknown agent who, allegedly after Peter ordered him to, came in, took Neal and just disappeared with him. Peter simply couldn't believe it! All these young agents had been able to graduate in Harvard, but in real life they completely failed at executing the easiest tasks.

As soon as he got to know the whole story, he switched on his phone and started the tracking app.

"_No signal!_". _What the heck?_ Nausea mounted inside him. That simply couldn't be true. What was going on here?

He rushed out of the room, without wasting another thought on the young agent and convened his whole team. In a husky voice he quickly informed them.

"I knew it, this snotty-nosed brat!", agent Barrigan exclaimed furiously.

"We don't know what happened, Diana. Maybe… someone forced him to go?", Peter offered half-heartedly and didn't believe his own words.

Suddenly the odd behaviour simply made sense. The reluctance towards the hospital visits, his whole "I can't talk about it" attitude, the tenacity to come back to the headquarter… _What for?_ He asked himself.

And suddenly the penny dropped, and his eyes widened in terror. "The painting!", he gasped.

But before he could do anything, his phone started beeping. He immediately knew what it meant and felt completely lost. _Neal had removed the anklet._

After all Peter did in his favour during the last few days, this kid just mucked him, without any hesitation. The betrayal squeezed all the breath out of him.

"Boss?", Jones asked cautiously after a few seconds passed by. "What's wrong?".

Peter pulled himself together, becoming aware of his team's eyes on him. He cleared his throat and replied in a steady, livid voice:

"I suppose Caffrey managed to escape again. And I strongly assume that he took the Raphael. This time he went too far. So… let's hunt him down!".


	21. Chapter 21

**Hey guys :), hope you're all healthy and safe! Here's the next chapter. I'm so glad that you liked the last one, thank you so much for your support and I'm sorry for the cliffhanger. Hope you'll like the outcome of this chapter a lot more! :) All comments, readers and suggestions are MUCH appreciated. Thanks a lot! And once more, just to make sure you're all well aware: I really enjoy writing and I won't stop, I promise! It just takes some time, because I've got a lot going on right now in my everyday life! :-) **

* * *

After more than three hours and a frantic search through the whole building and the surroundings, they had still no trace of the boy. Unsurprisingly, Peter was right, and the Raphael gone. He felt utterly disappointed and somehow ashamed by the betrayal. Hughes made it more than clear that he had to pay the price for all of this mess. And Peter still didn't know how to explain it to his wife, let alone the MET. He had been taking such a huge risk, all for nothing.

But, after his first rampant anger vanished, he found himself sitting alone in his office, recognizing a bunch of other, confusing feelings arising. Even though he didn't like it, he felt haunted by the boy's sad, regretful looking eyes. He felt as if, at last, they had a fragile connection yesterday, even though Peter had been well aware that the boy had a lot in mind and wasn't telling him everything. But he wholeheartedly believed that he owned a good core. All in all, he just couldn't believe that Neal would do that to him and El, not offhandedly. But what the hell happened then? Why did he act like that? Peter rubbed his aching forehead and groaned silently.

Deep in thoughts, he watched his team running around in the lower part of the office. They obviously didn't know what to do and were throwing a nervous glance in his direction from time to time. Peter didn't know what to tell them, he didn't even know what to do himself.

Suddenly his mobile startled him out of his thoughts. He shook his head to clear his mind and looked at the screen. His eyes widened in shock. _What the heck?_ The anklet went back on and could be located again! He rushed through the menu and observed the map. Peter immediately recognized the location, it wasn't far away from the mall he took Neal to.

He furrowed his brows in confusion. Even though they didn't know his father's name, let alone his address or other background information, this couldn't be a coincident, could it? Neal certainly wouldn't run directly back home, would he? And why did his anklet start working again? This didn't make any sense. Peter jumped up and left his office in a rush to inform his team.

* * *

Only half an hour later, the van was standing in front of a dilapidated looking apartment building and Jones, Diana and a few other agents watched Peter expectantly.

"All right, let's get this done! I can't say where exactly he is, but we'll find him, even if we have to enter every single apartment, understood?"

They all nodded solemnly. Peter hesitated for a second, but then added: "Just one more thing. Even though he_ is_ a criminal, which I have to admit he proofed once more, lets always remember that he's just a kid after all… So please make sure he won't get hurt."

Peter's eyes met Diana's gaze and he noticed a lot of sympathy in her expression, which made him feel embarrassed somehow, but he tried to concentrate on the upcoming task. "Well, let's go get him!".

They entered the building in total silence, their weapons drawn and found the stairwell empty. It was dark outside by now and Peter could barely see anything but avoided to turn on the light. He didn't want to scare away his target.

Peter looked around, it smelled disgusting and was, as far as he could see, extremely dirty in here. He doubted that the lights would work anyway. He pointed up the stairs to begin the search, but before he could move, Diana stopped him by grabbing his arms.

He looked at her in confusion. She pointed to the opposite wall and he followed her gesture. His eyes widened. He recognized a huge bright red arrow. And under the arrow huge red letters, written with a fine brushstroke:

**_"Hi Peter!"_ **

He shook his head. _What the hell did that mean?_ He waved at his team to follow him and hurried up the stairs, where he found another arrow, pointing up the stairs. After that, one last arrow guided them up the stairs again, where they found a door marked with a huge red cross and the words:

**_"Please, don't be gentle!"_ **underneath.

Even though Peter still didn't understand what this was all about, he didn't hesitate but kicked the door to enter the flat.

"FBI. Whoever is in here, just freeze!", he shouted, and they went into the apartments hallway. Peter felt nauseas immediately. He could smell alcohol, rotten food and lot of other things he couldn't – and didn't want to - identify.

They split up and went to search the different rooms. Peter found himself with Jones in a dark room to his left.

"FBI!", he shouted once more and touched the wall to find the light. He found a switch and turned it up. The bright light dazzled him for a split second, but then his mouth dropped open. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The whole room was stuffed with art supplies. Canvases in different sizes, oil paints, brushes, sketchbooks and dozens and dozens of paintings. Besides, Peter noticed a narrow flatbed with a neatly folded but worn out looking blanket on it. In the middle of the room there was an easel with an envelope on it and a quiver was hanging from one side. Both men looked around, their guns still at the ready, but there wasn't any movement.

Peter lowered his weapon and slowly went closer. In a fine handwriting he could see his name written neatly on the white envelope. He shook his head in disbelief and started opening it, still not able to make any sense out of it. With Jones watching his back, he stared at the words in front of him.

_"Dear Peter, _

_I could say I'm sorry, but I don't think it would make it any better. But please believe me, I **AM** sincerely sorry. I appreciate how much you did to protect and support me I'll never forget that. And you have no reason to trust me anymore, but I swear I had my reasons. _

_Even though this won't make it up – welcome to my former room! It's nice, isn't it? You'll find the Raphael in the quiver (yes, it's the original one, so please be careful!) and feel free to take a look at all the other things inside the flat. I suppose you'll find that very interesting! The drunk idiot in the living room is my father. Please arrest him for as long as possible, that's what this badass deserves. He wanted to sell the damned Raphael and forced me to do a lot of the things you'll find in this room. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before. _

_Peter, I know I'm not in the position to demand anything, but please, do me one last favour and wait a bit before you openly announce that the Raphael is back. Please! It's the last thing **ever** I'll ask you to do. I know that you won't stop hunting me, which is fine. At least there's someone looking for me and tell you what? I kind of enjoyed it somehow, so why not going on with it. Thank you so much for everything, Peter. Honestly. And please tell Elizabeth I really appreciate what she did for me and I enjoyed our conversations and the stay in your house very much. You're both great people, you really are! The kind of people I would have loved as parents. And again, I can't say how much I'm sorry._

_See you (or rather not!),_

_ Neal"_

Peter raised his eyes, his hands were shivering.

"Damned!", he shouted. The boy was right, he was a hand full of trouble. But nevertheless, Peter's heart went out to him. What was it, that he still felt this strong urge to protect and comfort him after all?

Peter grabbed the quiver and risked a look inside. The Raphael, he couldn't believe it. But why? Why did he do all this? He shook his head in disbelief and turned around, with the letter and the quiver in his hands to face Jones, who watched him intensely.

"He wanted us to come, holy shit!". He explained the content of the letter in short terms. Jones looked stunned, too. But before he could reply anything, Dianna went inside with a familiar looking, shabby man with cuffed hands, who obviously couldn't stand upright properly.

"Boss, we found this gentlemen lying on the floor in the living room, with these in his pockets!". She showed him bags full of jewellery – golden bracelets, rings and a variety of pills, too.

"It's not my stuff, I swear it's not! This little son of I bitch, I promise I kill him next time, cut him into pieces!", the man managed to blare in a sluggish voice.

Peter couldn't help but smile a little. Caffrey at his best!

"Nice to meet you, Mr...?", he asked him pointedly.

"You don't need to know my fucking name, fed! Isn't it your job to know such things BEFORE you're disturbing decent citizens?", he shouted and spit on the ground in front of him.

Peter raised his brows before replying calmly. "Well, you're right, I don't need to know your name. The evidences are more than enough to arrest you for now. Take him out Dianna and don't forget to mirandize him. I promise you, Mr. Caffrey or whatever you're called. You'll pay for what you did to Neal. I'll personally make sure of it!".

The man started to struggle and tried to free himself to attack Peter, but Jones and Dianna were able to stop him with joined forces.

"What are you talking about, you bloody fed? What _I_ do with _my_ boy is none of your business. He needed a firm hand to explore his talents and I made sure he never lost track. He became what he is because of _me_. And I provided him with a place to sleep and food and whatever. So don't tell me I did something wrong with this brat."

The drunken badass finally managed to free himself and stumbled in Peter's direction. The agent took his chance and hit him right in his stomach, which made his enemy kissing the dust.

"Get this piece of shit out of here!", Peter demanded and Jones and another agent pulled him up roughly and accompanied the screaming man out of the flat.

Dianna stared at him afterwards.

"Is it true? _This_ is Caffrey's dad?", she asked, doubt in her voice.

Peter simply nodded and turned around. He suddenly noticed the dreariness of this place. He couldn't see any personal items. Besides the art stuff and the plank bed, the room looked depressingly blank. Furthermore, Peter noticed a lock on the door and handcuffs next to the bed. This obviously had been a cell in former time. He could literally see young Neal, sitting in his room, desperately trying to please his drunken father, dreaming of a better future.

Rage grew inside him! How could someone treat his own son so badly? Peter reluctantly began to search through the kid's impressive work, feeling more like an intruder than a fully responsible agent. Neal had been right, this definitely didn't make up for anything and Peter would never stop hunting him! He now, more than ever, felt the strong desire to protect and rescue the young con!

* * *

Neal hurried through the night. He knew he wouldn't have much time. After he had entered the evidence room, he had been facing not only the original Raphael, but also his perfect forgery. In this moment he had made up his plan and had smiled slightly. At least Peter wouldn't lose his job because of him, even though that would have made things a lot easier, considering that the agent would hunt him wherever he went.

He had taken both paintings and stored them under his shirt. After that, he sneaked out of the room in silence, entering the front room, only to find the security man sleeping behind his desk.

_Man, they should really overthink their safety standards!_ he thought, rolling his eyes. It felt far too easy. Afterwards, he had just walked around that man and used his key card to leave the room.

The door had beeped loudly, and his heart jumped a little. But when he had turned around, the guard just shifted in his seat and the snoring continued. Neal had breathed out in relief and slipped through the door. With his head held upright, he had walked up the stairs, greeting a few uninterested looking agents and entered the main hall. When he had walked pass the guard who searched him a few hours earlier, he waved him goodbye and smiled.

"So you're free to go, aren't you? See kid? Told ya he's not a bad guy, didn't I?", the guard grinned. Neal smiled again, gave him thumbs up and, without being noticed anymore, left the building. Outside he waited for the feeling of joy, freedom and success, but felt nothing but cold and alone.

He had have no time to grab his coat and was now shivering in the bitterly cold wind. The drizzling rain felt like needles on his skin. He gritted his teeth and hurried towards the next subway station. While walking, he couldn't stop himself from thinking about the warmth and cosiness of the Burke's home. He imagined Elizabeth sitting on the coach, Satchmo to her feet, a hot tea in one and a good book in her other hand. He felt heavy on the heart. How utterly he wished to be part of such a life! But it wasn't meant to be and tried once more to focus on his upcoming task.

* * *

Half an hour later, he entered his hated former home, a bottle of whisky in one hand, a six-pack in the other one. Just to make sure…

He reluctantly climbed up the stairs. In front of the apartment, he took one last deep breath and knocked as forcefully as possible. It took his father over five minutes and three more attempts of Neal's knocking until he finally made it to the door and another ten seconds to recognize who he was. James grinned spiteful.

"I knew you'd come, dearest son! Come in.", he backed away, making space for Neal to enter the hallways. He went past him, but couldn't stop himself from answering cockily.

"Didn't have I choice, huh? Suppose it's the only way to get rid of you bastard!".

He knew right away that this answer wasn't a smart one. His father pushed him hard, so Neal crashed against the wall to his right. He hardly managed to safe all the bottles from breaking. He needed them!

"How dare you? I'm your father after all. Show a little respect, bloody bastard. What have I done to deserve a failure like you?".

He hit his son's face with his fist, Neal's head bumped hard against the wall and he could feel blood running down his forehead. His vison blurred.

"Wait, dad, please!", he managed to beg. Neal presented the variety of bottles in his arms. #

"I got what you wanted and a little peace offer. Stop hurting me, you'll destroy the painting!".

His father paused and grabbed the bottles.

"Where is it?", he demanded then.

Neal carefully pulled it out from under his shirt. He had wrapped it in a plastic bag he got in the shop where he had bought the alcohol. Not ideal though, he hoped that there wasn't already a damage, but it didn't look like that.

His father eagerly teared it out of his hands.

"Well, well! So you're not a total idiot after all."

As expected, he straight away opened the bottle of whisky and, with the painting in his hand, went inside the living-room without another glance in his son's direction, who leaned against the wall, breathing hard and trying to calm himself down.

"So now we're done, right?", he shouted angrily.

His father laughed his head off. "Guess so! Don't need you anymore, beloved son. Well…maybe I will one day, we'll see."

Even though that behaviour was exactly what he expected, he could feel burning tears in his eyes. The only remaining part of his family treated him like rubbish and used him as a punching back and a source of money.

He once again felt utterly alone. But that only reminded him of Mozzie! Not family by blood, but so much more and so worth fighting. He silently went towards his room to prepare the things he needed and then there was nothing left but to wait!


	22. Chapter 22

**Hey guys :), I finally did it, here's the next chapter. Thank you soo much for your support, it means so much to me, I'm always unbelievable happy to receive a new review. Please enjoy and I'll try to be a bit quicker next time.**

* * *

Neal silently listened to the noises coming from the living-room. He had heard his father opening at least five bottles in no time at all, so it couldn't be long now. It took him half an hour to prepare everything for the Fed's arrival, including a small good-bye note for Peter and a backpack full of stuff he didn't want them to see. Now he was sitting on his old bed, thoughtfully shifting the anklet in his hands. Hopefully this would work as expected!

Neal sighted, stood up and admired the Raphael once more. Even though it wasn't the most detailed painting, it felt so lively. It was one of the rare occasions when he was able to take a real close look at something so precious. He could almost sense the air of something meaningful, the presence of an outstanding artist, even though this piece of art was located in his crappy room right now. Neal felt somehow ashamed by the thought that Peter would see his former world. But this was part of his plan, so he had no other choice. And, after all, he would open-up somehow. So Peter would be satisified, wouldn't he? Neal silently grinned.

He went closer and wanted to carefully store the painting in the queue, when something caught his eye. At first, he couldn't really pinpoint what it was, but then his eyes widened. He had missed something while he did his forgery, something which was easy to miss. He turned on a small light next to his bed and aimed it at the painting. There were small dots all over the painting, nearly invisible black points!

Neal shook his head in disbelief. He felt more than certain that these weren't part of the photographs he had used to forge the painting and he doubted that the painter himself was responsible. So, what the hell…? He touched the surface carefully with his fingertips. The bulbs weren't traceable. Again, someone made a big effort to hide the dots as best es he or she could. _But what where they meant for?_

He observed the whole painting and excitement began to rise in him. After all, he never really understood why Keller wanted exactly this painting so badly and his feeling now told him that he, right now, found out why.

He jumped up, grabbed his forgery and started to copy the dots. When he almost finished his doings, he hesitated and then decided to leave some of them out, just in case he needed this advantage over Keller. You never knew… He felt confident that he had all of them in his mind now.

Deep in thoughts, he wondered what these dots were for. A code or Braille maybe? He shook his head. Mozzie would know, but there wasn't enough time for him to find it out right now. A loud rumble startled him, coming from the living-room!

Neal carefully stored the painting in the queue, the forgery in his old backpack and left the room. While slowly walking down the floor, he intently listened, but couldn't here anything but the faint snoring of his father.

He warily peeked into the living-room. As expected, his dad was lying on the floor, bottles all around him, sleeping like a baby. Well, a drunken baby. A wave of disgust rolled over him. This was hopefully the last time he had to see this man, this flat, his whole old life!

He slowly backed away, went into the bathroom and removed a loose tile. Behind it there were dozens and dozens bags of different drugs, in all colours and shapes. His father's treasure! He picked them all up and went back into the living-room. Neal desperately hoped that these little pills would bring his father behind bars for many years, despite being in possession of a valuable painting of course, just as a back-up.

A little tentative, he came closer and began distributing the pills all over his father, in his pockets and hands. James groaned a little, but didn't open his eyes. Neal touched his father's wallet, slowly removed it from his pocket and looked inside.

His breath caught and he had to stop himself from dropping it. There wasn't anything inside the wallet, but a photo of his mom, young and pretty, smiling. Her bright blue eyes were sparkling, her long, dark hair was shining in the bright sun. He could see the resemblance. He looked like a male counterpart of his mother. Neal then noticed a kink alongside the picture and with shaking hands tried to extract it from the wallet.

He unfolded it and instantly felt tears in his eyes. There they were, all together. A happy little family. He was standing in front of the couple, maybe two or three years old, with blue shorts and a blue and white striped shirt. And next to his mother there was his dad. Not the one who was lying in front of him, stretched out over the dirty carpet, smelling badly and looking like a homeless person.

No, the man in the photo looked full of life, happy and proud. There wasn't even a single hint that this man would beat him up daily and force him to be a criminal just a few years later. His gaze lay admiringly on the pretty woman next to him and his hand affectionally touched his little son's head.

Neal didn't feel able to avert his eyes. He had never seen a picture of his former life before, the life before his mother died. He knew that there had been problems before, but this looked like an entirely different world to him. Tears were running down his cheeks now and he clenched his fists. _What did he do to deserve this change?_ Years and years in hell, without someone who cared, besides Mozzie.

Neal intensely watched his father's face and wiped his own one dry with the back of his hand. James looked almost peaceful in his sleep. Almost. The pain in his upper body reminded Neal that this man in front of him made his life miserable for so many years. No matter why he did it, Neal could never forgive him.

He had to leave this chapter of his life behind, for good. Without looking back. He wasn't responsible for his father's fate. So he finaly pushed the photo back into the wallet with a big lump in his throat and slipped it into his father's pocket. He determined stood up and left the room without a last glance back and sat down in his room to rewrite the letter to Peter. The short note didn't seem appropriate to him anymore and he once more couldn't stop himself from silently crying while writing. He then grabbed his backpack and, after a last reassuring look, he activated the anklet and left the bloody apartment and his former live as fast as he could.

* * *

Peter sat down on Neals's bed. He could feel the bare plank under the thin mattress and groaned. He thought juvie would have been the worst thing, but, as it seemed, the boy had spent most of his life in a prison, locked away in his own home. He regarded the locks at the doorframe, noticed blood splatters on the wall next to the bed and there were small parts missing in the walls, which looked like traces of former beatings. He felt anger rising up in him. _How could a father do this to his only child?_ When the forensic unit arrived, he greeted them and stood up with a sight to leave the scenery.

* * *

When he reached his car, he decided to call his wife to tell her that it would take time for him to come home. Even though it was very late, he knew she would expect him to call. He told her what had happened.

"Oh hon, I'm so sorry. I hope he's all right.", she said afterward.

Peter felt a big lump in his throat. "I hope so, too."

Elizabeth paused for a moment. "You'll bring him home after you've found him, will you?", she asked softly.

"El... I can't promise. He's in big trouble right now. I'd like to help him, but this isn't a game anymore. I mean, he has stolen a painting out of the FBI building. I doubt that Hughes will be willing to compromise anymore. And first of all I have to find him. Hopefully healthy. This stupid kid. He's such a handfull and he really lived in hell, love. I'm not sure we can handle this!", he said tired.

El replied without hesitation and in a firm voice. "We can, Peter. This boy has never had a proper home in his life, as far as we know. And there's noone able to fight for him. He deserves our help and support. We won't give up, Peter. We just can't."

Peter smiled and felt the strength coming back. "You're right, babe. As always. I'll try my best, I promise!".

* * *

Back in his office, he found his whole team waiting for him, even though it was in the middle of the night right now. He knew that they cared, as well as he did! This wasn't their usual business, not at all.

He threw Jones and Dianna a thankful smile and went through towards the interrogation room. They now knew, thanks to the fingerprints, that this man inside was James Bennet, known for several minor crimes like shoplifting, drunken pub brawls and pickpocketing. Just a petty crook son of a bitch. No surprise after all, considering the cash cow under his sway.

Peter reached out to open the door, clenching his other fist and preparing for the upcoming interview, when Dianna stopped him and spoke to him hesitantly.

"Boss… you're sure that you want to do this? I mean, this is something personal to you, isn't it? There's a drunken asshole inside, but we have to be careful not to lose our temper. It's just…".

Peter interrupted her. "I appreciate what you're saying and yes, I'd like to treat him exactly like he treated Neal. But you know me. I'm able to control myself. And yes, this is something personal. So I have to do it on my own.", he said in a firm voice.

Dianna nodded reluctantly and went out of his way. Peter took a last deep breath and then entered the room.

"Hello James, nice to see you again", he said grimly and took place in front of the skanky man, who had his head lying on the table.

"Is it?", he replied tiredly und seemingly uninterested. He slowly sat up, smirking, yawning and stretching his neck. "Tell you what. It's really nice to meet the Fed who well…. fed my boy… got that?".

Peter eyed him with a ferocious look and didn't react.

"Well…whatever. See, I'm not feeling quite well right now. So, maybe we could continue talking another day? I mean, if you don't mind.", he said in a slippery tone, grinning shifty.

Peter raised his brows, bursting into a loud derisively laughter. "Mr. Bennet, I'm afraid you got something wrong. You won't go anywhere for a long time. You were in the possession of a painting worth at least a million dollar. And additionally we found enough drugs, forgeries and stolen stuff in your apartment to bring you behind bars for years and years. Not to mention the abuse of your son."

Neal's father snorted loudly. "This little bastard. He has always been a talented pain in the ass. Never listened to his father properly. I've had nothing but trouble with this kid."

Peter tried hard to calm down, but couldn't stop himself from replying harshly. "YOU were the one responsible for all of his scars and his fears, weren't you? Tell me, what the hell could a little boy do to deserve a father and a treatment like this?"

James met his gaze now. "A son should behave. He should follow his father's rules.", he answered lamely.

Peter leaned back in his chair. "What kind of rules?", he replied coldly.

James shrugged. "We needed money to survive. He had to contribute. In one way or another."

Peter stared at him in disgust and thumped the table. "You're a piece of shit, Mr. Bennet. You really are."

James grinned half-heartedly. "I guess you got somehow attached to my brat, didn't you? He's a talented conman, agent Burke, you better never forget that. He would do anything to protect himself and his little friend. I would be careful if I were you."

Peter felt boiling fury inside him, which he couldn't control anylonger. He knew that this was exactly what this asshole in front of him intended. Right at that moment, the door opened and Dianna entered, a plastic bag in her hand. She looked anxiously in his direction and Peter knew that she just needed an excuse to come inside and remind him of her former words.

"Got his stuff, Boss. I thought this could be interesting!", she said warily and handed him the bag. He nodded reassuringly and thanked her, but she didn't leave the room, but took place next to him. Maybe that wasn't a bad idea after all.

Peter opened the bag and pulled a black wallet out. Of course there wasn't any money, but he caught sight of picture, showing a young and very pretty woman. He pulled it out.

Mr. Bennet's eyes widened. "This is Not your business. Put it back, Fed. It's MY property.", he yelled, sounding very desperate now.

"Well, Mr. Bennet. Right now these are evidences and I've every right to do this."

He took a proper look at the photo and his heart missed a beat. He recognized little Neal in front of the young couple, looking innocent and … happy. And behind him, his father looked far more relaxed. He eyed his wife admiringly, who obviously was Neal's mother. He was the spitting image of that woman.

Peter raised his gaze to look at James, who focused on the tabletop now. He paused for a minute, then simply asked in a hoarse voice:

"What happened?"

Mr. Bennet remained quiet. He looked small now, broken.

"Tell me, Mr. Bennet. What was it?", Peter insisted.

James slowly looked up, his hands, still cuffed in front of him, were shaking now. He met Peter's gaze and all the agent could see was deep sadness.

"I…I messed it up.", his voice was shaking, too.

"You did what?", Peter asked, feeling confused.

"Never mind.", James concentrated on his hands again.

Peter thumped the tabletop again. "Oh come on, Bennet. You'll remain a piece of shit, no matter what, but at least I'll TRY to understand."

James flinched, but didn't move otherwise. "She…had been my world. I adored her. She made me a better person, agent Burke, she really did. I…I went to work and I… I even stopped drinking for a while. I tried. I really did. But I… sometimes lost my temper. I'm not proud of it." He threw him a glimpse and Peter waited for the man to continue.

"One day, after a really bad fight, I came home, drunk. And I…I…", he paused.

"You battered her?", Peter replied impatiently.

James nodded reluctantly.

"And Neal?" Now he shook his head.

"No, I mean, not yet. She protected him wherever she could. But that day… I went too far. She disappeared, told me she'd go, for good. Would only come back for Neal. The boy was sleeping in his bed. I tried to stop her, but I couldn't. She died in a dark alley, just behind our home. Someone tried to steal her wallet and she tried to defend herself. Got a bullet in her head, because of a hundred bucks. And Neal...he found her…" Peter looked at him appalled.

"He… what?". James rubbed his forehead now. He looked tired and old, collapsed in his chair.

"He was looking for her the next morning and… found her in that alley. I couldn't protect her. It was all my fault. And after that, I couldn't look at Neal anymore. I mean, you see it yourself. He looks like his mother. I tried, but…".

Peter felt the anger boiling again. "You TRIED? This poor boy found his mother, dead, the only one who was there for him, and all you can think of is treating him like shit, like a slave?"

James didn't react but looked even more miserably. Before Peter could go on, Dianna began to talk.

"Mr. Bennet. You couldn't save her and you didn't treat your son right, which he would have deserved. But what you can do is help us finding him. He needs our help.", she quickly said, throwing Peter a sideway glance. They both waited, all on edge.

James shrugged. "I can't. He would find and kill me.", he said softly.

Peter wanted to yell at him and leaned forward, but Dianna gently stopped him with her hand.

"Mr. Bennet. You owe him that. What would your wife say if she could be here?", she said insistently. James remained quiet for a few more seconds and Peter felt the strong urge to strike him in his ugly face. Then his counterpart began to speak in a small, wearily voice.

"Well… I suppose he's with Keller. Matthew Keller."


	23. Chapter 23

**I finally did it! I can't tell why it takes longer and longer, but as I promised, I won't stop until the story is over. And it's not yet! Please enjoy and stay healthy!**

* * *

After he had called the well-known restaurant once more, he waited nervously in the shadows for the van to arrive. After less than 20 minutes, he could see the dirty car turning around the corner and stepped forward. The side door opened and David appeared.

"Hey Neal!" he said with a sad smile and waved for Neal to jump inside the car. Looking very regretful, he pulled a sack out of his pocket.

"I'm sorry, kid.", he said with a sight and without a warning put it over Neal's head.

"Hey…what the hell…?", he yelled and tried to free himself, but David hold him tight. He grabbed his arms and cuffed his wrists behind his back. #

"Shhh, calm down. I try my best not to hurt you, kiddo. You should have stayed away.", David mumbled in his ear. Neal couldn't stop struggling, he just couldn't breath and panicked.

"Please Neal, I promise, I won't hurt you right now. But stop doing this! It won't do you any good!", David tried once more and Neal forced himself to relax a little and stopped fighting.

"That's better!", David said satisfied. "I'll start searching you now, the boss is afraid that you're working with the Feds."

Neal now felt David's hands all over his body and started stiffening and trembling, but tried to stop moving and clenched his teeth.

"Is…this sack…really necessary?", he breathed out.

"Unfortunately, yes. I've got my instructions.", David replied matter-of-factly without further explanations. Neal waited for David to finish his search. After that, the huge man pulled him up and placed him onto a wooden box.

They remained quiet for a few minutes. "Neal… I'm not supposed to talk to you. But… I don't know why you came back. It's been stupid. I told you, Keller is dangerous! You should have leave as long as you were able to. But now it's too late! Whatever you're doing, DON'T mess up with this man, understand? He's evil. I had to experience that first hand.", David told him hesitantly.

Neal felt bitterness rising in his chest. "So… you would just leave your best friend behind, just to save your own skin? You're telling me that?", he spit out.

David remained quiet for a moment. "Sometimes running is the only option. Right now, both of you are in immediate danger.", he sounded very sad and exhausted.

"What kind of danger?"

"Can't tell. Just… don't play games with him. Please, just don't."

They both stayed quiet for the rest of the drive. When the car stopped, David roughly grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the car. He pushed him, his hands still cuffed behind his back and he stumbled and hit the ground painfully, only to be pulled back on his feet by David.

"Here he is, boss!", the guard stated, and someone took away the sack over his head.

He felt blinded by the bright light and needed to blink a few times to see his surroundings. He was standing in one of Keller's private rooms and his enemy was right in front of him, smiling his spiteful smile.

"Welcome back, my dear friend!", he said and stepped forward to gently pat Neal's cheek. He tried to back away, disgusted, but David was right behind him, so he couldn't move.

Keller smiled knowingly. "Where is it?", he simply asked.

"I want to see Mozzie first!", Neal demanded coldly.

"First things first, kid. You're not in the position to demand anything. You should know that by now!", Keller's smile faded and his expression became stony.

Neal hesitated. He felt a barely noticeable push from behind. Slowly, reluctantly, Neal took off his backpack and opened it to hand the forgery over to Keller, whose expression now became totally mad and full of raw greed.

"Finally!", he gasped while staring admiringly at the painting.

Neal felt sick while watching him do so. What exactly was this all about? Did he, as the bearer, cause harm to someone else by providing this badass access to the code he found? He tried to concentrate on what really matters.

"I did what you wanted! So where is he?", he spit out, not hiding his cold disgust anymore.

It took Keller a few seconds to notice him and a few more to realise what Neal was talking about.

"What? Oh, well, you're allowed to see him, for a few seconds. As a reward. You should be glad, it wasn't some kind of a masterpiece, don't you think? With such a delay… But after that I'll need you once more. So, use your time wisely, kiddo. And remember, I won't hesitate to kill your little friend if I won't be satisfied.", he said and seemed to lose interest right after saying so.

Neal's eyes widened in terror. "You said we would be allowed to leave! You're a fuckin liar! You son of a bitch, let us go…", he screamed, his voice trembling and he tried to move forward to hit Keller, not able to control himself anymore.

David caught him before he could even raise his leg, holding him strongly with his huge arms. Neal struggled to free himself, feeling tears of anger in his eyes. This wouldn't stop. Not ever! He now realised how stupid he had been to believe this could be over just that easy.

"Easy, kid! Don't do something you'll regret later. I bet you wouldn't like to watch your fellow being tortured, would you? So just be thankful for the time you're given and don't complain!", Keller easily, with a smugly smile, not averting his gaze from the painting.

Neal stopped struggling and felt his heart pounding against his broken rips. He suddenly felt very tired. His whole body collapsed. David held him upright and guided him out of the room.

"Be strong, kid. This isn't the right time and place to fight!", he whispered in his ear.

Neal felt his strong hands on his shoulders while he slowly went through the maze of different corridors, feeling deeply desperate and alone again. They finally reached a door similar to the one of his own former cell. David took out a small key and opened the security lock. Neal's eyes needed time to adjust in the dark room. At first he couldn't see anything but a dirty mattress and some remains of rotten food. But after a few seconds he could see a human being curled up in a small ball sitting in one corner of the cell.

"Mozzie?", he hesitantly asked in a small voice. David removed his cuffs, so that he could freely step inside the cell.

The man raised his head and watched his visitors in disbelief. Neal could see dried blood all over his remaining clothes and face and Mozzie wasn't wearing his glasses anymore. His whole body seemed dirty and he had a neglected beard. Neal slowly stepped forward. His friend watched him in shock and then tried to stand up, a hand in front of his face to protect his eyes from the light coming from the corridor.

"Neal… is it really you?", he asked in a rough voice.

"It's me!", Neal confirmed, reached his friend and they both hugged each other.

"What did they do to you?", Neal whispered, his voice full of emotion he couldn't control.

"I'm fine, mon frère, don't worry. You shouldn't have come back. He won't ever let us go after all this mess!", Mozzie replied sadly. Neal took a step back to meet Mozzies eyes.

"I would NEVER EVER leave you alone, Mozz. You're the most important person in my life. I OWE you my life. I am what I am just because of you!", he said seriously and hugged Mozzie again.

He gently tipped at his left arm with one finger, C-O-D-E P-A-I-N-T-I-N-G, before David came to separate them both.

"I'm sorry guys, time's up.", he said regretfully.

"Remember our trip to London, Mozzie? The beautiful garden we went to? We could do that again, visiting the main spots. You were such a big help guiding me at that time!" He desperately hoped that Mozzie got what he wanted him to know. David pushed him out of the cell.

"We can do that, Mozzie, we need to fight!", he shouted, before his guard closed the door.

Without any further trouble, he went beside David to his well-known own cell, deep in thoughts. After he stepped in, the guard followed him inside and closed the door.

Neal stared at him, surprised. "Look, we don't have much time. Keller becomes suspicious easily, as you know. I can't believe you came back!", he ran a hand through his short hair. "I can see how much this little guy means to you, but at the moment there isn't any hope for both of you. It started the same way with me. I suppose I've been a good and honest man once and look at me now! You're just a kid. And I guess even though he won't kill you now, because he needs you as much as he needed me, you won't live a normal life ever again. I can't see that happen! Do you understand? We have to figure out how to save you. For good! My fade can't be yours. You're too young to live like that"

Neal looked at him, stunned. "You're still a decent man, David, even though your actions may not always be. But as I said before, I won't leave my friend behind. He's the only person I got left. It's not worth living a life without him.", he replied matter-of-factly.

David sighted. "Let me think about it. And I beg you… try to please Keller! You must be as worthy as possible to him!". He lowered his gaze to steel himself for his next words.

"Sit down please…", he said apologetically. Neal obeyed, a little confused. But then he realised what this demand was about. David took the metal ring and chained him again to the wall. "I'm sorry!", he simply said. Neal just nodded. Before David left the room, he turned. "I'll be back tomorrow. We'll figure something out!"

* * *

After a sleepless night, Neal sat at his mattress, his back leaned against the cold wall, when David came in.

"Come on, he wants to see you!", he said harshly and opened his chain.

Outside was a young-looking guard. David went in front of them, the young man followed him. Neal now felt like a dangerous prisoner, but tried to walk as confident as possible between them. When they entered a bright, spacious room, he sighed in relief. There, right behind a clean white desk, was Mozzie. Even though he looked terrible as hell, he had a little more colour in his face and smiled in his direction when he entered the room. The smile faded when Keller entered through another door.

"Welcome, Neal. I suppose you're asking yourself what your little friend is doing in this room. Well, he can be very convincing. He told one of my guards a lot about his skills concerning codes and riddles.", he raised his eyebrows, staring at Neal. "I'm not stupid, kid. Never forget that! I bet you figured out why I wanted the painting and gave him a hint somehow. Well… it doesn't matter really! I'll give it a try. Two men trying to solve the puzzle are better than one. But I warn you once more, prove what you're worth. Both of you! You'll regret it if you're not obeye."

He stepped closer to take a look at the painting. "Right now, I'm not sure_ where_ this will lead us. I only know that I really want to have the item hidden. As I said, I suppose you already figured it out. But you should take a closer look at these points. As far as I know, it's a code and I want to know what it means, as soon as possible, understand? I give you 24 hours. You won't like what's going to happen if you can't solve it."

Without waiting for any reply, he turned and left the room. Neal released a sight of relief. He took a sideway glance towards David and then turned to face Mozzie.

"You're ok?", he asked worried. His friend smiled weakly.

"Yes, Neal. I am! Much better actually. I had my first proper meal for ages this morning. Thanks to you!", his voice sounded a lot livelier than it had yesterday.

David came closer to join them. "Hurry up you two! It's not much time, especially because you're both not in your best physical condition, I suppose.", he pushed them.

Neal nodded, then threw David a sideway glance again and looked around, but couldn't see any cameras or similar items to record their doings.

"Could you… would you just try not to listen for a few minutes please?", he begged in David's direction. He hesitated, but then nodded grimly and backed away in a corner of the room.

"Listen Mozzie, I suppose the very talented painter of this painting forgot some dots accidentally, you understand? But he may be able to show you where they could be missing. We should consider both versions, shouldn't we?".

Mozzie smiled slightly and nodded. "Of course we should! So let's start my dear friend. Shouldn't be that difficult, should it?".

Well... unfortunately it was. They tried for hours to figure it out, but just couldn't.

"DotCode would be the most obvious option, but there simply aren't enough dots to stand for something with sense, even when we add the…potential missing ones.", Mozzie said for the tenth time. "

"It's definitely not DotCode, Mozz. I tell you, it has to be a mixture of something we just don't know. I feel like we just can't properly see the obvious!", Neal replied desperately.

David, who quietly observed what they were doing since then, suddenly came over.

"What did you just say?", he asked him.

Neal raised his brows in confusion. "What…the thing about the mixture we don't know?".

"No… you just said you maybe can't see the obvious. What about braille? My grandmother was blind and taught me some of it."

Neal nodded exitedly. "Could be possible."

David leaned over. "Yes! That's a four right there. And after that a two!".

With the help of David and Neal's additional dots, they could assign almost half of the given dots. After they did so, Neal yelled in delight.

"I can see what the rest means now. See? These dots build a line together and belong to this single dot there. It's a morse code!". He breathed out in relief.

Mozz added their results and nodded with a wider smile now.

"These are coordinates! We got it!", he said triumphantly. "It should be somewhere in the ocean, what the hell could be there?".

Neal shrugged and wrote half the coordinates down. "It doesn't matter really, as long as it's what Keller wants to know. We should be careful though. It's the only plus we've got. He won't get it that easy." Mozzie nodded and they both tried to steal themselves for the upcoming events.

* * *

Peter literally felt the time running out for Neal. He went restless through his office and wished he could do more, but he knew that his whole team was working something out right at the moment. He went out to watch them and could see Clinton searching frantically through some files and Dianna talking to someone on the phone. They both seemed desperate to find a hint where to find Keller, what he highly appreciated. His team watched his back, no matter what!

He went back behind his desk and sat down, to read the file in front of him once more. Matthew Keller was very well known in the White Collar Division. He had been a suspect in many cases, but was never sentenced, they could never find enough evidence.

His cold, piercing eyes stared at him from the only photo they got. A bad guy, through and through. _God, Neal, what did you do? _

Suddenly Clinton and Dianna came bursting in his room.

"I think we got him!", Dianna excitedly announced. "Jones was able to find out an alias he's using right now, and a friend of mine who works for the building authority, told me that he bought an old warehouse under this name and requested to rebuild it a few month ago. I bet that's where we'll find him."

Peter clenched his fist. "Well, lets go then!".

* * *

When Keller entered the room in a rush, Neal felt ready to face and confront him with half of what they found out. But Keller went straight to David and whispered something. The guard stepped forward without hesitation and pushed Neal against the table to harshly cuff his hands behind his back. Another guard came in to do the same with Mozzie.

"What the hell..?", Neal tried to protest.

"Your bloody friend and his companions are outside, all around the building. You got to go. And I won't risk anything.", Keller replied coldly, sounding stressed out.

"I'll kindly welcome them and will meet you later. Pay attention, don't underestimate that kid.", he directed David, who immediately began pushing Neal and Mozzie forward and guided him deep down until they reached a dark tunnel, which looked quite new. The younger guard followed them.

"Hurry up. We don't have much time!", David yelled. After what felt like hours in the humid, cold darj, they reached the exit, left the tunnel and found themselves in a small forest. After a few steps, Neal heard a cry behind him and frantically turned around. +

The younger guard lay unconsciously on the ground, a bleeding wound over his left eye. David had his weapon in his hand and had obviously used the handle to knock this man out. Neal and Mozzie stared at him in confusion.

"It was the only option! You two have to run. He won't ever let you go, not alive. I had to seize the opportunity. I won't cause anymore harm!". #

Neal shook his head. "But he will know it was you who helped us. He'll kill you!". David smiled and began opening their handcuffs.

"It really doesn't matter. He destroyed my life. I won't allow it once more concerning you two! And now GO! And figure something out. He won't give up, not ever. So run, as far as possible."

Neal hesitated, but then came closer and hugged David. "You're not a bad person, David! He forced you to do bad things, but you saved us, I won't ever forget that!", he said with tears in his eyes.

David hugged him back for a split second and then gently pushed him away.

"Now run! Try this direction", he pointed west. "It's not the way Keller would suppose you to take, so it's your best option. And you'll reach a small village soon, where there is a bus station." He handed him a few dollars. Neal took them and with hesitantly turned to go.

David stayed back, facing his own, gloomy fate.


	24. Chapter 24

**Hello again :), I short one, but at least I did it, finally! Thank you so much for your reviews, I'm always SO excited and it's such a great motivation! I suppose this story will be coming to an end soon. But I'm planning to write another one. It's so much fun and I really love the topic. Stay healthy please!**

* * *

They went side by side through the forest, turning around every few seconds to look if someone was following, but they were all alone now. Neal still felt unable to believe what just happened.

"What next?", he said breathless. His face felt hot and sweaty and he shivered slightly.

"Good question!", Mozzie answered grimly. "Let's just concentrate on getting away first of all."

Neal shook his head in desperation. "He'll find us. He won't ever give up!"

Mozzie felt unable to answer. He knew Neal was right. They went in silence for a minutes, until Mozzie started breathing hard and couldn't keep up with Neal anymore.

"I'm…weak…mon frère. You got to … go without me. I'm just … slowing you down."

Neal turned around to face his friend, his expression full of anger.

"Don't be hilarious, Moz. Come on. This fucking bastard won't get us. He won't. I would NEVER EVER leave you alone.", he grabbed Mozzies arm and tried to support him as best as he could.

"I… won't be able to run … and hide … Neal. I mean … long term. But….what else could we do?".

Neal didn't answer. After a few more minutes, they reached the little village with the bus stop and could finally sit down in a cool bus via Manhattan. They took a seat and the normality of the situation didn't feel right. An old woman next to them stared at him and he noticed how strange they both must appear in this clean bus. They were dirty, full of bruises all over their arms and faces and Mozzie just looked skinny and sick as hell. Neal turned around to face his pale, tired looking friend.

"There is another opportunity, Moz. It's nothing you'll like, but I simply have to do it. We have to get rid of this bastard. There's no other way!"

* * *

Peter sat next to Satchmo on the couch and watched a football match, but his thoughts soon wandered away and he couldn't concentrate at all.

_Where are you Neal?_ _What the hell happened?_

Even though they found a whole lot of suspicious things in the warehouse, including some creepy cells with chains to tie up someone, they weren't able to find a proper proof that Matthew Keller had kept Neal in captivity. Even more important, they weren't able to find Neal himself. So, after a frantic search, he had to give in and returned home.

He needed a break, but now couldn't relax at all. El left hours ago for an art fair and he felt pretty alone right now. When the doorbell rang, he stiffly stood up and gently removed Satchmo's head off his lap. The dog groaned in protest.

"Coming back soon, boy! And tell you what, maybe there'll be a little leftover for you, bud!".

He went to open the door, expecting it to be his takeaway pizza.

"Hey there, I'd really call that a fast delivery…", he began, but then gasped loudly and just couldn't believe his own eyes.

"Hey Peter!", Neal greeted him quietly, insecurity and raw fear in his expression.

His face looked like a white sheet. The clothes, the one his wife chose for him, was filthy and Peter could see bruises all over his face and arms. Neal slowly raised his hands, obviously a gesture of appeasement. He backed away a little, anxiously awaiting Peter's reaction.

The agent stood still for a moment, unable to do anything, but then simply went aside and nodded sideways to guide the boy where he wanted him. In safety. He would never let him go again.

Neal hesitated, but then obeyed, throwing a shy sideways glance in Peter's direction. The agent closed the door and they both stood face to face in the small hallway.

"Did Keller send you? Is this a trick?", Peter said in a firm voice.

Neal looked totally confused. "What…? No! I'd never…", he stammered.

"Turn around, hands on the wall!", the agent commanded, a queasy feeling in his stomach.

Neal's hands began to tremble, but his expression remained serious and pleading.

"Peter, I would never…", he tried again, but then paused, watching the relentless expression of the agent in front of him and lowered his gaze. He slowly turned around and put his hands against the wall, awaiting the inevitable. Peter began searching him cautiously while Neal tried hard not to flinch but couldn't stop himself.

"I'd never ever harm you, Peter, under no circumstances.", the boy said barely hearable. "I just need help."

After he felt sure that Neal had no potential weapon with him, Peter took him by the shoulders and turned him around with too much force, so that Neal ended up pressed against the wall.

Mixed feelings of anger, relief and confusion flooded Peter's chest. He had to fight the urge to hug the boy tight, but he still felt unable to understand what was behind all this.

"Why should I believe anything you say? You betrayed me so badly. How could I ever trust you again?", he said bitterly, grabbing Neal's wrists to cuff them in front of his body.

Neal met his gaze and willingly offered his arms without any resistance and Peter couldn't help but notice the bruises again, scattered all over his forearms.

"I know. I did a lot of stupid things. But please…I just need a few minutes to explain. Please Peter!", he desperately pleaded.

Peter hesitated, still holding the boy's arms tight. He then jolted backwards and guided Neal into the living-room.

"Sit down. And don't you move an inch without my permission, understood?". Neal nodded and sat down on the sofa, whereas Peter took the armchair in front of him.

Satchmo watched them both, then tiredly lay down his head in Neal's lap, who nervously started stroking his fur with his tied-up hands.

"You've got five minutes until I'll take you back to the office!", Peter said undismayed.

Neal nodded again, looking very tired and young now. He took a deep breath, leaned back and lowered his gaze, staring at the floor in front of him.

"I'll tell you the truth now. I never did and I'm really sorry about that, but I thought I couldn't. I need your help, so badly Peter. After that I'll never ask for anything again. Feel free to arrest me, throw me in jail, whatever. I won't run or do something stupid again. Well, at least not something THAT stupid." He raised his eyes and met his gaze, smiling slightly, but soon became serious again. "I know you've got no reason to trust me after all I did to you. I just… I…", his voice cracked and he seemed close to tears.

"Just try to convince me, I'll listen!", Peter's voice softened a little.

Neal took another deep breath and then began explaining. "My life wasn't… quite nice before all this happened. I want to be honest, Peter, but that's another story and my time is running out. So … let me just say I was looking for an opportunity to find a better life. And well… I was stupid and maybe desperate enough to trust Keller. Which wasn't smart, I know.", he rubbed his temples with his cuffed hands, the chains were slightly tinkling.

He went on telling Peter the whole story with every little detail, besides Mozzie's role and the agent just shook his head in disbelief from time to time, his expression full of anger.

"I'm a criminal, Peter, and I know you've got to treat me as one. You can quit contact if you want and I won't ever bother you again. But I don't want to run anymore. I know I won't stay alive for long with you AND Keller right behind me. I'm just tired!".

His expression once more went from desperation to fear and uncertainty in a split second. Peter felt unable to speak for a while and a heavy silence spread in the room.

"He…he did all that to you? He chained you in that bloody cell? He hurt you, left you half starving, threatened to take your life?", he gasped in disbelief. Now Neal looked confuse.

"Doesn't matter. I went through worse things, I'm tough, don't worry."

Peter seemed furious now. "It DOES matter, Neal. You went through hell, several times. And you…. you never thought about coming to me earlier?", he ran a hand through his hair. "Why, kid? Why were you unable to trust me?".

Neal stared at him, motionless. "I suppose I've got an issue with trust in general, Peter.", he answered quietly in a tired voice. Peter stood up and went forward without a former warning. Neal raised his hands in shock to protect his head, awaiting another beating. The agent paused in his movement and slowed down to ease the boy.

"It's all right, kid, I won't touch you. Give me your wrists please." Neal lowered his arms, looking ashamed and then obeyed and willingly offered his wrists.

Peter removed the cuffs and took a closer look at all the bruises Neal had.

"Do you need a doctor?", he said, recognizing how uneasy Neal felt under his gaze.

"No!", the kid hastily responded. "I'm fine, I swear!", he added, after noticing Peter's sceptical expression.

Peter slowly sat down close to Neal, who threw him a shy sideway glance.

"What I don't understand is, why did you go back to him? What for? He treated you like…trash, threatened your life. And you willingly went back in his arms.", Peter asked and watched him intensely.

Neal stared into space. "He had something I badly wanted to protect. Someone.", he finally responded.

Peter shook his head. "No more lies, you promised!".

"It's not a lie. This someone needs my help now. His life is even more in danger than mine and I owe him a lot. But his identity doesn't matter!", he admitted and concentrated on Satchmo.

Peter slowly raised his hand again, waiting for the boy to notice, and then gently touched his shoulder. Neal managed to hold still and relaxed a sat there for a moment, just savouring the closeness to each other and the abating tension

The doorbell rang again and Neal spun around, his eyes wide in terror.

"That's him!", he whispered.

"Relax kid, it's just my pizza!", Peter tried to soothe him.

He hesitated. "You'll stay where you are, won't you?"

Neal's piercing blue eyes looked at him, a tired smile covering his still slightly worried expression.

"Of course I am, I promise!". Peter stood up, hurried to get his pizza, but not without a second glance backwards in the boy's direction.

He paid the deliveryman and came back and found the boy where he left him, leaning back with closed eyes, which teared open as soon as Peter entered the living room.

"Do you want some?", Peter asked, now smiling slightly himself, pointing at the pizza and Neal nodded. They both took a seat and Neal obviously had trouble to eat slowly again. He inhaled the piece of pizza and grateful took four more. Peter watched him and Neal met his gaze a few times, looking ashamed.

"You really went through hell, didn't you, kid?", the agent asked, shaking his head. Neal stopped eating.

"My life wasn't an easy one till now and I've made a lot of stupid decisions myself. But I don't want to be a victim, Peter. What happened can not be changed, but as you and El and … a friend of mine told me: I AM able to change the future. So please… I'll maybe tell you what happened in former times one day. Well, maybe not all of it. But right now I just want to have a future. I'm not able to do that alone!".

Peter watched him intensely and Neal shifted around in his seat uncomfortable.

"And you really know where to find that Item, the one Keller wants so badly?", Peter asked him after a few more seconds.

"Yes! And I'm going back to tell him where to look for it!"


End file.
